


Tortured Soul

by Foxygreen



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Jealous John Watson, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Married Mary Morstan/John Watson, Past Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor, Post-Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-03-05 17:14:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 83,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13392477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxygreen/pseuds/Foxygreen
Summary: John Watson and Sherlock Holmes haven't talked for months. Mary Morstan and John Watson have decided to take their well-deserved holidays to Venice.However, One phone call from Mycroft Holmes changes everything for John Watson. Sherlock Holmes has gone missing.





	1. Phone Call in Venice

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All rights reserved to the BBC, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I am not the owner of Sherlock Holmes or any of the main characters involved in this story. None of the characters of BBC Sherlock belong to me and I give all the credit to the rightful owners. 
> 
>  
> 
> Excuse any spelling errors or typo made. English is not my native tongue. 
> 
> Victor Trevor is playing a bigger part in this story. Minor characters will appear in the next chapters that don't belong to anyone but my own imagination. 
> 
> Charlotte is the name of John and Mary's Baby.

There were a few things that John could have never anticipated. One of those things was about ever coming close to losing Sherlock. He was always aware that he was the weaker mind of the two, the slower one, the one that would always have to play catch up with Sherlock’s mind. But here he was, standing in the lobby of a five-star hotel in Venice ready to check in to the first vacation in years since his daughter was born, and time again this man was about to rattle his way back into his perfectly crafted civilian life. Mary had decided that it was about time that they had a proper vacation as a couple. They deserved it. Since the wedding and then the birth of Charlotte they deserved to cut loose and get a break.   
John especially was looking forward of getting out of London for a while, leaving the excitement and the thrill behind them and revisit their spark that they seemed to have lost since Mary told him about her dark past. Since her confession and Sherlock’s return, John has been looking forward to getting as far away from London as possible. Everything seemed to be not making sense anymore. His pregnant wife was all of a sudden an assassin and his best friend was about to be exiled to Serbia because he tried to protect them, him, his little family and indeed Charlotte. It just did not seem to make much sense. He began to lose his mind and he did not trust himself or his feelings anymore. Than Sherlock was granted to return to Moriarty being allegedly back in London. John, Mycroft, and Sherlock worked together on finding out what was about to happen. Who was working in the name of Moriarty?   
Two weeks after Sherlock was back, Charlotte was born and everything changed. Mary and he got closer, the baby brought them closer together again and John lost sight of supporting the cases that would lead them further in destroying Moriarty’s network for good. The visits to Baker Street got fewer and the contact to Sherlock became rare. So much so, that Mycroft and Sherlock worked more and more together and were almost acting like normal brothers again. 

John did not know why his relationship to Sherlock had changed, or why he got more reluctant over time to pick up his phone and call or text him? Why he got more disinterested to join him on cases? Was it really because of Charlotte? Or did it start when Sherlock tried to kill himself with a drug overdose on that attempted fatal plane ride to Serbia?

He couldn't put his finger on it. He was not certain if he even wanted to know. All he knew was that it became more difficult to be in his presence. Somehow John could not bear standing next to Sherlock and pretending it was all okay. Nothing was okay anymore. John had a feeling it started a long time ago.   
He shook his head and tried to blink the tear away that was creeping around the corner of his eye. 

“What are you telling me Mycroft?” Mary was standing next to him. The concern in her eyes.   
“I don’t know. All I know is that I have not seen my brother for the last three days. He has not been to Baker Street for the last three days. Mrs. Hudson is more than concerned, so am I. This is not one of his usual drug-fueled adventures, I really believe he's missing. I’ve been trying to track him down ever since but there is nothing. No sight of him what so ever. I would not have contacted you if I would not be desperate at this point,….”  
John choked.  
“I ask you again. What are u telling me Mycroft?” He felt his tremor. He was not ready for this. Not now.  
“I think my brother has been abducted, kidnapped, whatever you want to call it” John had to hold it together. He was not going to lose it. He just had to breathe, stay calm.   
“And u telling me this now. NOW. We just arrived in fucking Venice. We’re about to check into our hotel suite, a suite that I have booked six weeks ago and now you're telling me that I should come back to London and help you out because your loon of a bother got himself into trouble again - Like he always does without thinking of any consequences.” Mycroft tried to cut in.  
“John, please…”   
“No, Mycroft I really had enough. Worrying about your brother and his death wish. I can’t be that person again, Mycroft. I've got a family now. I've got a daughter. That's what I told your brother as well. I don’t want to have anything to do with that kind of stuff anymore.” One single tear was threatening to roll down Johns' cheek as he was about to lose his mind.   
“I know that. I know. But right now that's not relevant anymore. I can’t force you John, but I ask you as a friend in need. You know how my brother can be. I need your help” Mycroft’s voice got lower as he was about to choke. Mycroft begging? John could never have imagined that in a million years.  
“Why? What do you think I can do? If the English government cannot find him, I won't be able to……”  
Mycroft cut him again.  
“They want you” John must have misheard.  
“Excuse me?!”   
“Leverage. They use him as leverage. They want you to come after him.” John stuttered. What the fuck was going on.  
“What the fuck are you talking about, Mycroft?”  
“You know what I mean, John. They know that the one person they need to make Sherlock dance is you. They know how valuable you are. As I know my brother he won't be cooperating. As long as they can't prove to him that you’re in danger, he won't do anything that they are asking of him. He would rather die than cooperate.” John stumbled over his words.  
“But what would they want from him.”   
“Everything. I don't know. The fact that I am his brother should be enough. But my guess is as good as yours. The fact remains is that my brother has been taken. I am sure of that and they will put pressure on him by threatening your life. You have to come back, John. We have to figure something out together. I wouldn't ask this of you if it wouldn't be my last resort, you know that, don't you?” John sighed. His mind was running. He did not want to think of the consequences.   
“Why you are so sure that it’s me who they want. I have not talked to your brother in ages.” Mycroft chuckled on the other side of the phone.   
“Are u really that ignorant. You were and are the most important person in his life. There is no one else who has that power over him. Unfortunately, he messed up and let his enemy know. The sentiment, I reckon and I thought I taught him better. See where it got him now.” John stayed silent. Mary's eyes were scanning their surroundings. She did not really know what to say or do. She could see from John's disposition that it was about Sherlock. Even a thousand mile away, everything and anything was still about Sherlock Holmes. Could they ever escape this man?  
“But that’s just the way he is. He will be willing to die anyway. He would never want you to get involved in this.” John could not believe the situation he found himself in. What was he supposed to do? This situation seemed to be surreal. However, there was only one choice to make and John was certain that Mycroft was being sincere otherwise he wouldn't be that persistent. Sherlock Holmes seemed to be in danger and John wouldn't be able to fully turn his back on him just yet.   
“That's not his decision to make.” Mycroft exhaled. John would help him after all.  
“So you’re coming back” John blinked his eyes together.  
“Can u get some of your guys to come down here to get us.” Mycroft could not help a small smile and a sigh of relief was escaping.   
“Absolutely. Give me two hours.” John finally acknowledged his wife's presence next to him, brushing that one single tear out of the corner of his eye.   
“Right. Mycroft. You owe me a vacation.” Mycroft smiled and hung up the phone.


	2. Punched by Armani

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The roads we walk have demons beneath, and yours have been waiting for a very long time" - Mycroft Holmes
> 
> Sherlock finds himself in an inescapable situation.

It was dark. Very dark. That was the first thing he could make out as he slowly opened his eyes. Pitch black darkness until his eyes got used to the new surroundings. He ached in pain. His mind running at speed. A thousand images flashing before his eyes. Somehow he got himself injured. He could feel his bones tense, his body weaken. Where the fuck was he? And how did he get here?  
He was sitting on his knees, his hands tied together behind his back by chains which were coming from the ceiling above. He continually tried to make out his surroundings, looking for anything that could be a clue to what has happened to him. As his eyes got finally more accustomed to the darkness, he saw that he was in some sort of cell, with white walls. No, He couldn't be certain of that. Whatever it was, there was nothing that could help Sherlock in his deductions. The cell was empty, just pure emptiness. No recollection of how he ended up here. Sherlock immediately concluded, that whoever taken him captive, must have given him some sort of pill or injection. Possibly a tranquilizer. He tried to recall his actions over the last couple of days. He was working on the whereabouts of Moriarty's network with Lestrade. He could remember the sleepless nights in front of the computer and in Lestrade's office, discussing every last single detail on how it was possible that Moriarty was able to return late that. He was supposed to be dead. He saw it with his own eyes and nobody could outsmart Sherlock Holmes.   
“Well, well, well,……who has finally woken up from his dozed dream. I should increase the dosage, I see. ” The door to the room he was held in cracked open and revealed a tall male figure who was coming in his direction.  
“Who are u. What am I doing here”? Sherlock hated not knowing. He despised it. Whoever this guy was, Sherlock needed answers and he needed them quickly.   
“Nanana,….not so quick my love. There is no need to rush into this. First I need to get a good look at you” The figure came closer and all of a sudden the room began to lighten up just a little. Sherlock looked up in rage as he could now make out the person who was standing in front of him. It was a man. He was tall, wore a perfectly fitted Armani suit. He could make out the steal blue eyes that were burning through his and the blonde slicked back hairstyle, which made his handsome features stand out even more. Sherlock's heart skipped a beat. This man looked oddly familiar. 

“You recognize me, William” Sherlock felt like he was about to vomit. He recognized that voice and his stomach was turning. That became way too familiar, way too swiftly.   
“Victor?” Sherlock blurted out. He could not believe who was standing in front of him.  
“Victor Trevor?” Victor Trevor, his best friend from university. Well, Sherlock did not have friends. Even back then. Victor was a much more complex sort of topic.  
“In the flesh.” Ok. Sherlock was now really about to vomit. How come he could be that blunt. That composed.   
“I don't understand” Sherlock could not take his eyes off him.  
“That's not a sentence you hear very often coming from your lips.” He smiled. That smug smile that Sherlock knew so damn well. He stayed silent while his mind palace was running wild, trying to put the pieces together. He had not seen Victor in ages. Not after what had happened between the two.  
“I see your head is about to explode. Any minute now and that brilliant brain of yours is no longer. So smart but yet so clueless, they say.” How Victor loved to talk in riddles. All of a sudden, he came closer and hunched down towards Sherlock’s level, so he could look him straight in the eye, observe the detective who has become so famous over the years.  
“Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The famous detective in the funny hat. Let me take a good look at you.” Sherlock cringed inside. He was barely able to look Victor in the eyes.  
“ I’ve been looking forward to this moment for some time. Especially after witnessing your triumphant rise over the last couple of years. Making a name for yourself. Very impressive stuff.” It was unbearable. Sherlock just wanted to close his eyes and blink all the memories away. To blink Victor away. To be back at Baker street were he belonged. But apparently, this was his new case. Victor seemed to be involved in all of this. Sherlock could not take all that information in. For the first time in years, he found himself absolutely lost.   
“What do you want from me, Victor? Why are you keeping me here?” Victor chuckled and his eyes wandered over Sherlock's crouched form. He was looking quite disheveled, still wearing his dark blue shirt and black trousers from the day he was taken away. He sported a stubble over the last days which could pass as a beard and his dark curls were a sweaty mess. Victor let out a satisfying sound and smiled.  
“Hm, it is disgusting how beautiful you still look after three days without a shower” He chuckled and Sherlock lost his breath for a moment there. What was that supposed to mean?   
“Answer my question” Sherlock demanded while keeping his eyes firm trying not to show how weak he actually was at the moment.  
“Well. For starters. I'm finally able to speak to you after all these years of just being able to observe you. Let me enjoy this moment for a quick second, will you?!”  
“What is that suppose to mean? Don't try to trick me, it won't work.” Victor laughed and leaned in even closer so he was just mere strays away from Sherlock's face.  
“Why? Because you're Sherlock Holmes. Do you really think your usual routine will work with me? You're in a cell if you haven't realized it yet. Your whole body aches, your muscles are weak and your hands are chained together. You are no position to make threats or demands. No one knows where you are, or how you disappeared. As of such the only way I see for u to get out of here is to listen closely to what I have to say.” Victors voice rang through Sherlock's head. It was like being punched in the face. Many times.  
“How long are you going to keep me here?” Victor giggled. He was starting to enjoy this now.  
“Well, that depends on how long you’re going to be able to cope. I am certainly not going to make it easy for you.” Sherlock’s temper kicked in.  
“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?. TELL ME.” He screamed into Victor's face which was met by continuous laughter.  
“I love when you get angry, sweetheart. You've got so much fire inside of you that needs to be unleashed.” Victor finally stood up and looked down on Sherlock.  
“Such a pity that we never got to the point of unleashing it. With all your suspicion and mistrust. I’m sure I got the closest though over the years. I have to say, one is able to pick up a lot of things about a person when they simply observe.” Sherlock had a hard time keeping his head up.  
“ Isn’t that right Sherlock. You see but you do not observe. Sound familiar” Sherlock stayed silent as Victor rolled up his sleeve.  
“ I see you now very clearly William. And from what I could gather, you are still this lonely boy who just wants to be loved but can’t because he is too afraid to get hurt.” Sherlock's eyes squinted. He tried to stay unfathomed by what Victor had to say to him but he could not completely shut it out. Victor's words always had an effect on him. In one way or another.   
“I don't care what you think Victor. As you might have noticed. I don't care what anyone thinks.” Victor took off his jacket.  
“ Yeah well, Sherlock. We both know that's not quite true. You might not care about the majority but you do care about one special person. A person you were willing to die for. And that's how I come around to your burning question of why you are here today.” His jacket fell to the floor. Sherlock's stomach churned and he felt really sick right now.   
“I really don’t understand what you mean” Victor smiled and huffed. Sherlock's pulse increased. He felt the sweat coming from his forehead.   
“Of course you do, you just don't want to say it. To cut a long story short. I was and still am part of Moriarty's network. After his suicide, my team and I worked long and hard to keep the last remaining pieces of the network together. Over the two years where you were trying to track us down, you and your brother were able to get rid of the shell which comprised most of his followers and, however, you were not able to destroy the core. I am the core. I was Moriarty's right-hand man who has been pulling the strings since his demise. I was able to build the network from the ground up and extend it like never before. I became more powerful than any other criminal mind that is out there right now because I know how to manipulate people. You know about all that, don't you Sherlock?” Sherlock's ears were ringing. He was good with processing information but this hit him harder than he had ever imagined.  
"I was able to gather an obscene amount of the best class of criminals around the country just because I promised them to achieve something that Moriarty never managed to achieve."  
“which is………” His voice still sounded steady.  
“YOU”Victor's smile grew and he hunched down again to get closer to Sherlock. He was now again inched from his face, his sleeves buckled up and Sherlock knew something was about to happen.  
“Me?” 

“Of course you. It was always you. Right from the very start when I saw you jump from that building, I knew I had to make sure that I will somehow be able to catch you. I was absolutely amazed, still am, how you tricked Moriarty into believing he won up against you. How you faked your death and how you and your big brother continued to dismantle the network that I was part of for years after college. In just mere minutes you and your brother showed us all, the whole of Britain actually, how clever you both are and how easy it was for you to trick someone as brilliant as Moriarty.” Victor came closer and began to unbutton Sherlock's Shirt. Sherlock's eyes faded, he was not gonna survive this, he was now convinced of that fact.   
“You don't have any idea what you do to people, do you? What you did to Moriarty, who was so obsessed with you. And I never understood it, why he was so obsessed with you. The boy I remember. Posh, boarding-school, stuck-up, narcissistic Nerd with no one to play with. Though, in that moment, I understood the power you had over people. The power you are having over me” Sherlock began to shake his head trying not to look into Victor's eyes while he was continuing to open Sherlock's shirt.   
“Just cut to the chase already Victor. I don't have time for your sob stories. If you want to kill me then just do it.” Victor all of a sudden began to giggle and finished unbuttoning the shirt which clung so perfectly to his slender figure.   
“Someone’s been working out I see. You did not have these while in college as I can recall.” Sherlock blinked his eyes together while Victor pointed at Sherlock's chest.   
“I don't want to kill you, William. Not yet, rest assured. We have lots to do before I'm finished with you.”   
“So what is it then? Let's just skip the mind games and whatever it is you doing right now. I am not the kid you know from college anymore. You know nothing about the Sherlock Holmes that is right in front of you” Victor began to slip the shirt open as much as possible so Sherlock's upper body lay bare on the cold wall.   
“No, I definitely do not as I can see.” He paused while taking Sherlock by the chin and forcing him to look him in the eyes.   
“But Let me finish the story. It's easy, very easy. As of now, my network is about to contact your lovely brother to bring someone very important in. Someone who we need to make sure that you cooperate throughout and someone who guarantees your allegiance towards the network.” Sherlock noticed how weak he was, he failed to keep his eyes fully open. Victors sharp eyes looked more threatening than ever. What was Victor talking about?   
“Who could that be?” Victor looked down towards Sherlock's lips and started to brush his fingers over his mouth.   
“Dr. John Watson.” Sherlock really tried not to react at all, to be as still as possible. Not to let Victor notice what the mere name triggered in himself.  
“What about him?” He carelessly replied. Victor saw right through him.  
“You tell me, William?. You can skip the charade right away, don't even try to fool me. As I said I followed you for three years now and I have a really good understanding in terms of how leverage works.” Sherlock smiled slightly. He had to be strong. Pull himself together.  
“Enlighten me then” he simply answered while Victor came closer towards his mouth.  
“John Watson is the only one who can ensure me that you will be working in our favor. For the sake of his well being, you would do anything.” Sherlock tried to shake his head.  
“Than I have to tell you, that you’ve been misinformed. I don't care about anyone but myself.” Victor smiled again. This time he came closer so he was able to brush his lips over Sherlocks.   
“Will see about that then.” He finished while brushing back from Sherlock's lips. As Victor pulled back, he let his eyes wander over Sherlock's slim physic and grinned triumphantly.  
"Just like old times. Never could quite understand how you could be so opposed to something as simple as human affection. But you have seemed to open up a little which is more than welcome. So don't be shy.” Sherlock let his head drop as soon as Victor released his grip. Victor stood up slowly.  
“What will you do to him?”   
“You mean your precious little doctor?” Sherlock did not reply.  
“Well. Lots have been planned. To be exact since your fake suicide we have taken Dr. Watson through the ringer. Making sure we have eyes on him at all times. Making sure he won’t get close to you, as much as I want him to.” Sherlock huffed.

“So this is personal now. ” Sherlock could feel his face flying to the side and a burning sensation going through his cheekbone. Victor punched him hard and unexpectedly.   
“I am not that petty William. And this is not at all about you. Dr. Watson has been bothering me for quite some time now and this is the perfect scenario to make it more difficult for the both of you. He’s going to come over here because I am asking him to.” Sherlock shook his head.   
“He won't come. He’s not that stupid as you might think he is. “ Sherlock was sure of that.  
“ Oh yes, he will. He’s going to do exactly as I tell him to.” Sherlock just did not want to hear that. Victor played with him, played with his mind.  
“Well. That's that. Try to behave a little while you're here.” Sherlock kept his eyes on the ground. How bad could it get? Victor collected his jacket from the floor and made his way towards the door.


	3. Scotch at Diogenes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John and Mary arrive back in London. Meanwhile, Mycroft tries to call the shots and Greg stands in the corner of the room sipping his scotch.

“You know I’m quick but some things I can’t even figure out without a little bit of information” John's heartbeat skipped a beat as he felt Mary's hand on his shoulders, occupying the opposite seat of the private yet that Mycroft had sent for them to get them both safely back to London.   
“I am so sorry darling for not being more aware of how you must feel right now.”  
“Sweetheart, everything is going to be fine, just fine. Sherlock is the reason why I’m sitting here right now and not in prison. I will do anything in my power to help you find him. I just need you to tell me what we are about to do.” Mary looked at him with calm and loving eyes. A faded smile is all John was capable of giving her right now.  
“I know. I just don't want you to get into something that you really don't want to be part of. Charlotte needs at least one parent to be safe from all this.” Mary chuckled.   
“Come on. Her mom is an ex-assassin and her dad is a former army soldier. She should prepare herself as soon as possible that we're never going to be ordinary.” She had a point. John stroked her knuckles and looked into those beautiful eyes of hers.  
“Point Taken. Still, I will make sure that nothing will happen to us as a family. I just need more information from Mycroft when we arrive in London. How are we going to be able to extract Sherlock from whatever place he’s being kept in?.”   
Mary took John's other hand as well.   
“Darling. You need me. I will try to do as much as possible. He’s my friend as well and I know how much you care about him” John's stomach was turning again.  
“I have not seen him or even spoken to him in months. I feel it’s not my obligation or even my duty to help him out.” He tried not to lose it again. Why did it hurt so bad?  
“Yet, the sheer thought of him getting hurt is driving me crazy.” Mary looked at the floor and looked up again.  
“It does not matter how often you see each other. He was ready to die for our sakes happiness. Now It's our duty to do as much as we can do get him back” John balled his fists.  
“I’m just so angry. Angry with him that he got himself into this mess again. Like he always does, without thinking. He’s the greatest smartass In the world but does not think when it comes to his wellbeing. And now I'm not even sure if I ever going to see him again.” Mary cut in.  
“You don't know that,….” Mary encouraged but John seemed to get more agitated than calm.  
“It's Mycroft, Mary. He would have never called me if he would not have hit a dead-end by now. I'm certain he already exuded any weapon in his arsenal. I'm his last resort. He knew that I wasn't in the country. Fuck sakes, he knows everything and he is not even able to track Sherlock. He is fucking desperate, which means it's going to be difficult to find anything on Sherlock's whereabouts.” Mary tried her best to calm his nerves.  
“Well, you may be right about that. But right now there's nothing we can do. We just have to wait and see when we're in London how things are going to work out.” John nodded and tried at least to calm his temper.  
“He said I might be the only one that is able to lure them out”  
“Them?”  
“Moriarty’s men. He’s convinced its Moriarty's network that has something to do with Sherlock’s disappearance.” He continued.  
“Apparently they informed him that they want me if they want to know where he is.”   
“As leverage.” Mary finalized.  
“Yeah.”  
“No” She stated.   
“What?”  
“No. Absolutely not. You’re not going to do that. That’s suicide. They going to kill you immediately, just out of spite.” John looked incredulous.   
“What. Why?” Mary could not believe how clueless John could be sometimes.  
“You have no idea how these people operate and what they do in terms of leverage work. I know what I'm talking about John. They will send you in. Let Sherlock wither away and kill the last person they might think is of importance to him, just so they get the information they want.” John shook his head.  
“It's not like that”  
“Oh really. How would you know? Have you ever worked for any intelligence service? That’s how it works. If you go in there, you won't come out of it alive. Trust me.” John looked at his wife. She was beautiful, strong and smart. All he ever wanted his future wife to be. And she was convincing. He believed her. Of course, he did, she out of all people knew what she was talking about. 

Mycroft's Diogenes Club was becoming more and more the headquarters of secret national emergency discussions from what John could tell. Mary, Greg and he were all summoned to the diagnose club to discuss the current repercussions of Sherlock’s disappearance. Mycroft offered the best scotch and everyone was drinking it at a different rate and speed except Mary.  
“So. You flew us in here. This should better be working quickly as my patience is running thin here” John let himself fall on one of the comfortable chairs.   
“We’ll get to that, otherwise I would not have summoned you all here.”   
Greg stood in the corner of the room, scotch in his hand.   
“Yeah. That's the problem. Usually, I have a security camera hidden at baker street, but someone must have extracted that camera in the last few days, so we have no real access as to where Sherlock was taken” John was about to cut in.  
“And it's not Sherlock who extracted the camera, John. I and my brother had an agreement after he came back from Serbia that at least one camera at a time remains in the living room.” John took a big swing out of his glass.  
“Well. Who the hell could have done it. No one out of us four has a key to baker street. And it surely was not Mrs. Hudson” Mycroft frowned.  
“I Don't know. It's very nebulous endeavor. I can't imagine who could have been in the living room without us catching a glimpse of that person. But the disappearance of that camera and Sherlocks missing are connected.” Mary pushed herself from one of the shelves.  
“What about the demands of the kidnappers. You said they have contacted you already” Mycroft nodded. John could see how worried he actually was about the whole situation.  
“Yes. They contacted us. They said that they want Dr. Watson if they ever going to reveal were they keep Sherlock” Greg shook his head.  
“That Is quite odd. What has John got to do with this? ”   
“Well, I can't be certain. I figure they want to use John as some sort of keeping my brother in check” Mary's face dropped.  
“Seriously. No way. I told him that this is a suicide mission” John stood up from his chair, took a big swing out of his glass. Alcohol was his best friend these days.  
“If that's the only possibility to get to Sherlock” Mary cut in.  
“No, no way. I won't let you do that. This is mental” John eyes wavered around the room trying to look at anything but his wife's threatening glare.  
“This is not your choice to make”  
“I’m your wife for gods sakes.”   
“I know. But you heard Mycroft, Mary. This could be the only choice to locate him.”  
“And then what. You get killed for his sake”   
“HE ALMOST DID THE SAME FOR ME....FOR US” John tried to control his temper. The situation seemed to flare out of hand. Everything that Mary had said to him on the yet seemed not to be valid anymore.   
“I won't let you do this John. Charlotte needs her father, there has to be another way. And we won't do anything until we find one” Mycroft could not take the fighting anymore.  
“STOP IT YOU TWO! This won't help anyone. My brother is in imminent danger and if John is the only one who there are willing to make a deal with, then there is no other choice.” Mary could not believe it.  
“Really. This is how you two going to play this. Am I the only one who is willing to think this through. I not going to allow my husband to go by himself to some off location without even having the faintest idea who we are dealing with” Greg tried to stay as quiet as possible.   
“He won't be by himself. I will send some of my guys with him.” John shook his head.  
“No. They will kill Sherlock the minute they see that I am not by myself. They want me for leverage. For whatever it is he knows which is valuable to them” Mycroft balled his fists.  
“I just don't understand what could they be after. I thought they will threaten me but they don't seem to care.” John frowned.  
“What are u saying Mycroft?” Mycroft looked absolutely defeated by now.  
“I,…….I think this is about Sherlock. I think it has actually nothing to do with the government or any state secrets. I think its personal. It must be. I've been thinking about this for a quite a few days and this whole thing with you being called in must have something to do with them trying to pressure Sherlock into something. To force him into something. They know they hold him in the palm of their hands as long as they get you as well. Someone does not want to send a message to Britain, someone wants to destroy Sherlock bit by bit. Like Moriarty. This time around though, it seems to be way more personal.” John took a deep breath.  
“If that's the case and it's really directed towards him than I have to go to find out.” Mycroft shook his head.  
“I can’t ask that of you John because Mary is right. You might not come out of this alive. If they want to make my brother suffer the first one who gets hurt is you” John could not take this any longer. The waiting. The frustration. What he would give just to see the detective. Just a glimpse would be enough at this point. To see if he was okay if he was hurt.  
“Well, that's a risk I'm willing to take. I owe your brother one anyways.” Mary took Johns hand in hers.  
“Let me come with you” John looked now point blank.  
“Sorry. What”  
“Let me come with you. That's the best solution.” John laughed.  
“Have you lost your mind. No, no way. Charlotte is not going to become an orphan.”  
“No, wait. Hear me out. I'm experienced. I can fallow you. Ill stay on your toes to make sure I can intervene at any time to get u out when I feel it's needed. I'm trained, John. I did a lot of extractions and I am able to keep u safer. I would feel safer by your side.” Now Greg was cutting in.  
“Well. I do not understand then why we should not use one of our boys instead of risking both of your lives” John nodded.  
“Absolutely. That's mental.” Mary giggled.  
“You say that. Because you have never seen me work before.” John looked for Mycroft to help, who seemed to be playing with the idea.  
“Don't even think about it Mycroft.”   
“I'm sorry, but it's not such a bad idea. Mary has a point. She is indeed trained, well-skilled regarding her record and could intervene if needed.” Mary nodded excitedly.   
“That's what I'm saying. I can do this. And we can do this as a team. I'm also indebted to Sherlock. He saved me, too. I owe him one” Mary mimicked her husband and kissed his cheek.   
“I cant convince you otherwise, I'm sure” John looked very defeated but also could not really help to think that might be the only way. He on his own would definitely be useless in trying to find a way or have at least a chance of getting Sherlock back.   
“I only can ask so much of you John, but we definitely going to prepare you the best way possible, so you will have the best conditions to get him and yourself out of there. Greg looked anxious. He found this scene a little bizarre. Mary being so excited to go and rescue Sherlock from god knows where, putting themselves in huge danger, leaving their daughter behind.  
“I hope you guys know what you are doing?” He added while drinking the last swing of his scotch.   
“ It seems to be the only logical option. Did you try to contact the kidnappers again?”   
“No. the connection is cut off right now. We can just hope that they will get into contact again. But they want to get on with whatever job their have to do, so I'm sure it won't be long now. I also guess they want to get you as soon as possible so you have to be ready, both of you, to get onto the next plane, car, or whatever it is.” John looked oblivious. It was hard to concentrate on the task at hand when everything seemed to be based on his relationship to Sherlock. Everyone seemed to know how valuable John was towards Sherlock. Everyone but themselves. And now all he could think of was Sherlock, and how he longed to see his face. How he longed to touch, just touch his face to see if he was real, if he was alive and content. He could not live without knowing, without seeing him for one last time.   
“You are right. I will get home and pack some stuff up just in case so we're ready to leave.” Mary agreed.


	4. Black Hair Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor loves to play games. Sherlock gets more information on why he was taken. There is a lady with long black hair who seems to attract attention. 
> 
> "Intuitions are not to be ignored, John. They represent Data processed too fast for the conscious mind to comprehend" - Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock tried to keep his body as calm as possible, but it seemed to get harder and harder to keep his body in an upright position. His Knees hurt as hell by now and he could smell himself wither away by each hour that passed. He needed a shower desperately, he needed to get out of here. The door cracked open as Sherlock began to sink to the floor again.   
“Mr. Holmes. A pleasure to meet you” Sherlock looked up and could make out a female figure that was coming towards him. He could not be bothered to look up though.  
“The boss decided that you need a bit of a break. You need to look presentable again. I have to agree. You smell awful.” She giggled. Loudly.   
“What are you doing?” The woman started to loosen the chains around his wrists and started to lean into Sherlock.  
“unshackle your wrists for starters and take you closer to the ground again. Dungeon time is over.” She helped Sherlock from his knees as he had trouble to even lift himself from the floor.  
“Wow. They really put you through the ringer, haven’t they” She smiled.  
“I don't know” Sherlock answered while leaning into the woman who seemed to have no trouble at all lifting his weight into her. Slowly they made their way through the door.   
“ Don’t worry love. You will get a bit of a break for now. Boss wants you to be presentable and all cleaned up.” She led Sherlock through a long corridor which was leading towards an elevator. Her black, straight long her swaying with every step they took together.  
“With Boss you mean Mr. Trevor, I presume.” He spat his name.  
“Exactly. He wants to have dinner with you tonight and you're also supposed to meet some friends of his.”   
“And what if I don't want to have dinner with him” He could tell what dinner was supposed to mean.  
“I think that you won't have a choice, honey. Better do what is asked of you, otherwise, you go right back to the dungeon.” They arrived at the elevators. The strange but very beautiful woman pressed the button and flicked her black hair to one side.  
“Who are you?” Sherlock leaned now against the wall next to the elevator. He did not like human contact, especially with a stranger. Especially with his people. Victor's people.  
“Not at liberty to say, Mr. Holmes. But it really doesn’t matter who I am. All that matters is who you are or who you wanna be.” He had a mind palace, was the one and only consulting detective in the world but could not figure out anything since he was taken to this place. To this godforsaken place that was run by the greatest lunatic he knew next to James Moriarty.  
“Whatever that means. I guess you are one of his minions. The network.” She did not answer. The elevator arrived and both stepped in. The woman pressed the button for the 1st floor and looked at him with a smile.  
“You really are gorgeous in person. Too bad you're not available” Sherlock did a double take and looked like she grew horns.  
“You don't have to look so afraid. No one here is allowed to lay a finger on you without his approval. Your off-limits, love.” Sherlock blinked and tried to put two and two together.  
“This is personal. Victor send me here for revenge. To get back at me.” Sherlock spoke more to himself than to anyone else.  
“Yeah, you seemed to have upset a lot of people from the network. But upsetting the boss is never a good idea.” She replied.  
“Moriarty’s network?” She smiled.  
“Not at liberty to say” Sherlock shook his head. This was going nowhere. The elevator stopped and the woman led Sherlock into a room. Sherlock took in his surroundings. This looked all too much like a hotel corridor. This must have been a hotel. He was in a fucking hotel.  
“What is going on? Is this a hotel floor?”   
“Not at liberty to say” She answered and smiled again while pushing Sherlock into one of the rooms and closing the door behind them. Sherlock was struck. Where the hell was he?   
“You can’t say anything, can you?” He mocked while taking in the luxurious surroundings.   
“Not really” Sherlock huffed.   
“This is one of the suites you can use to clean yourself up. There are cameras around corridors including in every single room. Don't attempt to escape as we will notice immediately if you make one false move. If I were you I’d behave and be glad that the boss decided to give you a break and spoil you a little bit, he did far worse with others. There are fresh clothes in the cupboard to your left and everything you will need to make yourself look presentable. I hope this will suit you.” Sherlock stood there like he was being told off by his mother. The woman left the room and Sherlock could here a lock going through. No luck there, he would not be able to escape that easily as he hoped he would. This was getting more and more bizarre. The so-called cell he was kept in the whole time was absolutely atrocious looking whilst this floor looked like a fucking five-star hotel. Where the fuck was he? He lent himself forward trying to find an opening but all the windows had a grid in front of them. There was nothing. He missed seeing the outside although it just had been three or four days since he was taken. The suite was really beautiful, he had to give that to Trevor. He always knew how to make things look presentable. Sherlock flinched as he looked towards the bathroom. Anything that he was planning on doing had to wait. He really needed to take a shower. 

Sherlock was sitting on the edge of the bed in the one most beautiful rooms he has ever seen, and that meant something as being the child of one of the most elite families in England. It took him two hours to clean himself up and look presentable as it was asked of him although every fiber of his body rejected the idea obeying Victors demands. The only thing that Sherlock was willing to admit was that he really felt way better to be all clean finally and wearing this expensive Armani suit that probably Victor had chosen for him to wear. Victor and his Armani suits. And still, Sherlock's mind didn't stop. What was this place he was apparently kept in? A hotel? Everything seemed to be screaming hotel with the suites and the corridor. Did Victor own a hotel from where he organized his criminal network? That could be one possible option.

All of a sudden the doorknob opened and the woman from before with her gorgeous black long hair stood in front of him.   
“Well. Mr. Holmes. Are you ready to join the party?” Sherlock looked stunned as he saw what the woman was wearing. It looked like a cocktail dress, definitely evening attire, but why. Was he going to join a party?  
“Do I have a choice?” He asked bluntly while standing from the bed and following the woman in the very revealing outfit out of the room.   
“You clean up nicely Mr. Holmes. Boss will be very pleased.”   
“I don't really care about how your boss is being pleased. I want answers.” The woman giggled and they walked along the long corridor.  
“You won't be getting answers for a while, Mr. Holmes. Everyone knows too well what you’re capable to do when you obtain too many details of information.” Sherlock looked baffled as he followed the women through a door and another long corridor appeared.  
“Where are we going? What do you mean by the party” She giggled again which really started to annoy Sherlock.  
“Not really at liberty to say but you're invited.” With that, she opened another heavy door which lead them both into what seemed to be a hall. A hall with people. Lots of people who were all dressed in evening attire. It really looked like some sort of gathering, party. Sherlock followed the lady through the crowds of people while noticing that he seemed to attract everyone's attention. All of a sudden the noise of chatter and laughter was interrupted as everyone was turning their attention to the new guest. Sherlock felt more and more uncomfortable and confused as the woman lead him towards the end of the hall into a circle of people. He did not know anyone of the people in front of him but he could make out Victor who stood at the foot with a champagne glass in his hand chatting away.   
“Boss. He is here.” The woman greeted Victor and pointed towards Sherlock who did not really dare to enter the circle. It seemed to get quieter around them as Victor's inner circle turned towards the new guest and looked at him in surprise and curiosity.   
“Ah, finally. William, come on in, no need to be shy.” Victor’s voice was smooth and charming like Sherlock could remember when he first met him at freshers week. He stepped forward into the circle and found his way standing beside Victor who did not take his eyes off of him. Sherlock looked back with a glare that seemed to be mixed with utter loss of comprehension and dismissiveness. Victor, on the other hand, could not grow a bigger smile as he was eyeing Sherlock from top to bottom not even being shy about it.   
“Wow. I am at a loss for words.” He whispered more to himself than anyone as he finally turned his attention towards the circle of people while clapping Sherlock excited on the shoulder.  
“Gentleman, can I have your attention please” He began while waving a waiter towards them, who rushed next to Sherlock bringing him a glass of champagne.   
“I don't know if you are all familiar with this gentleman right here but I’d officially like to introduce to you Mr. William Sherlock Scott Holmes.” Sherlock just wanted to punch someone right now, as he again found himself in utter confusion of what was happening around him. This nightmare really did not seem to end. Everyone in the circle who were mostly men expect the woman who brought him in, smiled at Sherlock and raised his glass in contemplation.   
“I’m sure you all heard about him. The detective in the funny hat solving crimes in London against criminal masterminds such as James Moriarty.” Sherlock took a swing of the champagne. This seemed to be getting weirder. Why would Victor introduce him to his network? Moriarty's network? They all knew who he was, they must despise him.   
“Fortunately for us, Mr. Holmes decided to turn his powers against the law to join our ranks. I’m sure he’s going to contribute a tremendous amount to the network and we all should be looking forward to working with me.” Sherlock was lucky that he was not about to take another swing as he was sure he would have swallowed and bitten his tongue in one simple action. What the fuck was going on here? He could not even react as everyone seemed to raise their glasses again and began to cling his glass. Was he about to just go with it, pretend. He was definitely outnumbered for one, so what was he supposed to do? Follow into Victors unknown scheme?  
“To Sherlock Holmes” Victor shouted out as everybody joined in and joined hands with the seemingly irritated detective. But Sherlock was quick and good at disguises, he decided to play along with the charade until he got a chance to speak to Victor in private. He really needed to speak to him. He needed answers where he at least could have a chance to figure out what he was part of.   
“Good job, William, and if I were you I'll keep it up for the sake of your loved ones at home.” He heard in his right ear as Victor leaned in while Sherlock did not waste time to empty his first glass of champagne. Their eyes met again and he could not make out what it was, but there seemed to be a hint of hope in his eyes, mixed with revenge and horror. Sherlock nodded. He was sure that right now was not the time to play the hero or to sacrifice himself. He was good at playing along. Playing along until he could figure a way out. But he needed more data.   
“I need to talk to you in private.” Sherlock looked him dead in the eye while the other guest seemed to continue with their chatter and laughter. Everyone seemed to be comfortable to see the ex-enemy of detective enter their ranks. Victor explained and introduced him as part of the team and that seemed to be enough for them to entrust Sherlock into their own.   
“Are u so keen to be alone with me. So soon.” Victor chuckled more ironically but did not expect to get a straight up answer from him.  
“Yes.” Victors smiled froze and he again looked Sherlock straight in the eyes. Trying to figure out Sherlock Holmes was never easy. But Victor understood. The detective was now under pressure. He was thrown into a situation he had no control over.   
“ For all the wrong reasons I'm assured. But your will should be granted for once. Follow me.” Sherlock sighed in relief. At last. He needed to get out of this room, quickly.   
“If I could excuse myself, gentlemen, I’ll be with you shortly,” Victor informed the circle and   
snapped the woman to his side and hushed some words into her ear before turning towards Sherlock.  
“Follow me.” 

Sherlock seemed to be losing count of the many corridors he has crossed today as he kept in step with Victor who was making his way into one of the private suits that Sherlock just cleaned himself up in mere minutes ago. Victor stopped at a particular room, entered a code into a small screen next to the doorknob and opened the door minutes after gesturing Sherlock to come inside. Sherlock gulped as he made out his surroundings. That was more than he could imagine a five-star hotel to be. That must be something out of Buckingham Palace or the white house. There were standing in a bedroom suite while Victor roamed around the room apparently looking for something vital. Sherlock really could not believe how nonchalant he seemed to be acting. But it was now at least that he got the chance to be equal ground with Victor. It was still his turf, his people and his location but Sherlock was at least not chained to a wall any longer. If he played his cards right, he at least stood a chance to figure Victor out.


	5. The Iceman?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft's love for his brother reveals John's lies about his real relationship to Sherlock. 
> 
> N: John and Mycroft's relationship has always been one of the very interesting relationships of the show. For this chapter, their dynamic gets more explored especially in regards to Sherlock and Johns relationship

John and Mycroft sat opposite from each other taking in the warm fire that was coming from the fireplace in one of Mycroft's special meeting room at the Diogonese Club. Both with their third glass a scotch in their hands. Both, Greg and Mary left earlier. Mary to pack up some things in their flat and arrange everything that they had to prepare for Charlotte's wellbeing in any case they had to leave in the next 24hours. Greg, on the other hand, tried to put more distance between himself and the older Homles brother. 

“They texted again. They will call any minute now.”   
“Are you sure?” Johns' eyes were low. He was tired, exhausted.   
“Very sure.” Mycroft agreed and seemed to close his eyes. John looked more worried with each second passing. Why was that happening now? He could not close his eyes. Not now.  
“You really care about him, don't you?” John startled. Mycroft was like a hawk.  
“He was my best friend”   
“Why did you ever fell out. I did not understand. All of a sudden you were not friends anymore” John looked Mycroft dead in the eye.  
“I don't know. We never fell out, I was just busy and he did not seem interested enough”  
That was not really a good explanation, granted.  
“Are you certain? I’ve seen Sherlock at his worst. But seeing him without you is a whole different thing altogether.” John frowned.  
“How,…..what do you mean?” John didn't like where this conversation was going.   
“You know exactly what I mean. I don't have to repeat myself because you know what everyone is thinking, and what I am thinking. He needs you, John, he always has….. seeing my brother without you for these last couple of months has been the lowest I’ve seen him in ages. It seems to me that he somehow is not able to function without you. And within that, he just shuts down in more self-destructive ways….’’ John cut in.  
“You don't need to remind me Mycroft. Seeing your brother overdose on that plane was one of my worst days of my life. After that, I promised myself that I would never have to go through that again, that I never have to see him like his again,….and I realised very quickly that this just seems to be possible with me distancing myself from him. I did not choose to do this! Sherlock is forcing me to, due to his self-destructive ways…..” Mycroft cut in.  
“But he is just doing that because he misses you, John, because you decided to distance yourself…..”  
“NO” John became frustrated with himself and Mycroft.  
“That’s not it. It's not about what I did. He decided to take that overdose after he tried to protect Mary and,….” Mycroft became frustrated and yelled. The older brother rarely lost his temper like that.   
“He would have died John,….” John shook his head, he did not want to hear the truth.  
“He would have died, and I know you know that. I know my brother better than anyone else, and he took that overdose because he was certain that he would not survive Serbia. It would have proven fatal to him in about 6 months. I knew that so he knew that, no doubt about it. So he decided to take an overdose to spare him the journey. He never intended to go to Serbia. He wanted to stay London.” John nodded.  
“I know.” He replied bluntly.   
“I know that way too well, unfortunately. That's why I’m here.” John continues and earned a chuckle from Mycroft.  
“Just for that reason? You really want to tell me that you're here because you owe him one” John did not like where this conversation was going. Mycroft was way too clever for him.   
“Yeah, I owe him that. He saved my life too many times, its time for me to return the favour.” Mycroft got angry. Was John really playing him for a fool?  
“Oh just stop it, John. Don't treat me like an idiot, you know I’m not. It's insulting that you actually believe that I don't know what's going on. You and my brother are too stubborn for your own good. You would not want to face the truth when its right in front of you.” John took the last swing of his glass while Mycroft roamed around the room.  
“I really don't know what you mean Mycroft, and I believe its none of your business either,” John said smugly.   
“HE’S MY BROTHER.” Mycroft shattered his glass against the wall and got enraged. John jumped from his seat. What got into Mycroft?.   
“I know, but….” His voice small.   
“You know nothing or better you choose to believe nothing. My brother got kidnapped because of you, he’s going to get killed for all I know because you let him believe you did not care about him anymore just to prove to yourself that you are not gay, that you are not this person, who you believe is not worthy of being truly happy.” John looked wide-eyed. He could not believe what was coming out of Mycroft's mouth. Words full of agony, pain and also love. Love for his brother and the pain of not knowing what has happened to him. Mycroft seemed so different all of a sudden. 

“Mycroft I swear I have no idea what got into you just now, but I can guarantee you that I'm not responsible for your brother getting kidnapped. I know you are worried because you love him, but don't think for one second that I would stand here and tell you about my feelings for your loon of a brother who apparently made it his life's mission to keep me from being happy.” Mycroft tried to control his temper.   
“You are unbelievable Dr Watson. Sometimes I really wonder what Sherlock sees in you. So much evidence that he is doing everything in his power to keep you safe and happy with your little white picket fence, a wife and baby, and that is how you thank him.” Tears spilt into Johns eyes which he had trouble to control from spilling over. He really didn't want to listen to that. Mycroft blaming him for what happened to Sherlock.   
“That's exactly it. He is not my responsibility Mycroft. He should not be my responsibility. And I know that he cares a great deal about me, as I care about him, but I can not live like this any longer.” John pressed his eyes together. He did not want to talk about this.  
“So you are willing to live a lie.” John blinked. What the hell was that supposed to mean? What did Mycroft play at?  
“You live it right now. You know I’ve been observing you and Sherlock for a long time, and in all this time I’ve never seen my brother more alive when he was on cases with you. Of course he loves the thrill of the chase but there was something else I discovered and at first, it made me really worried about his well being. About his ability to function. You see, I always taught him that love is a chemical defect found on the losing side, that it clouds your judgements and distracts you from what is really important. Brainwork!. But I believe I've been mistaken. You changed my brother for the better. He changed so much that I saw glimpses of how Sherlock used to be. Carefree and just the brightest and most compassionate boy one can ever meet. Sherlock was always full of emotions and love until I forced him to keep this side of him dormant. Until I convinced him that love brought nothing but pain. With the demise of his so beloved Redbeard, our dog, Sherlock was convinced that everything I’ve been trying to implement in him was true. From that day forth he became a completely different person. A self-entitled Sociopath. Although we know he was everything apart from that. He was never the calculating machine that he pretended to be for all these years. And John you triggered that change. And I will forever be indebted to what you have done for my brother. Consequently, you can’t withdraw from the responsibility that comes with that even though you try to fight it. I know that Sherlock hurt you. I was keeping a weather eye on you for several months after my brother decided to fake his suicide and I could see immediately that you've been broken. More than that. You were heartbroken and all of a sudden I could put the pieces together, understand what made you so upset, what is still making you upset about my brother's actions. But I need you to understand why he is acting that way.” John could not take his eyes away from Mycroft's lips. It seemed that he was hanging on his lips every word.   
“Mycroft please,….”   
“No, let me finish. I know why you can’t be there for my brother, and I know why you decided to distance yourself. It became all too much, hasn’t it? The seeing him every day, the pretence, the despair of what could have been. I know that this is the true reason you abandoned him. You feel guilty and at the same time, you cant help yourself to do whatever it takes to save him. You’d even sacrifice getting killed and not be able to see your daughter grow up. Yes, my brother sacrificed his life to save your life so many times because he is in love with you, but you would not blink for a second to do the same for him.” Johns tears spilt down his cheeks. What could he possibly answer to that? He was more than stunned about Mycroft's cheekiness. Suddenly both were taken out of the moment by a beeping noise coming from Mycroft's Suit jacket. John tried his best to brush his tears away as Mycroft picked up his cell phone. John knew immediately that it must have been someone from the network. They were about to call him in. To follow into the unknown.


	6. William

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor's mindgames continue and Sherlock struggles to keep up. There's a fine line between love and hate.

“So. Tell me. What did you want to talk about so eagerly?” Sherlock did not even have the power to look surprised anymore. He smiled bewildered.  
“Seriously. You really want to play that game?”  
“What game William? There are so many games you’re playing. Would be nice to let me know what game it will be this time.” Sherlock huffed.  
“If you try to be funny I might as well sit through this conversation as this is going to take a while until you decide to play fair. And stop calling me William.” Victor giggled while Sherlock sat on one of the sofas in front of the bed.  
“But that's your name, isn’t it. Can't help if you decide to call yourself any differently.” Sherlock knew Victor was playing tricks on him this whole time. There was not one single sentence that came out of this man's mouth which was genuine.  
“If you want to make me feel small with you very blatantly trying to destroy my reputation by announcing I'm one of the bad guys now, good try, but been there done that. I applaud the attempt but Moriarty kind of tried the same thing once. Didn't go for him too well as I can recall. I will confess though, I’m getting more confused than clever, so I'll give you that.” Victor seemed to be pleased with that statement as he fished a phone out of one of the drawers and sat opposite from Sherlock. More so, he draped himself onto the chair looking like a statue. A statue without any imperfections.   
“Good to know. About the name, I decided I'll stick to William from now on. I never fancied Sherlock anyways. It doesn’t suit you. Sherlock sounds so ordinary, as opposed to William.” Most people would say the exact opposite. But Victor was not most people. Victor bit his lips a little.  
“I don't even what to indulge you now, I just….” Sherlock waved his hand to the side. Victor cut him.  
“No no, let me explain as this will partly answer your question on why you are here and what your purpose will be.” Sherlock frowned.  
“As William, you can gain a completely new identity. Cutting loose from everything you know, from everyone you know, and starting something new for the greater good.” Sherlock huffed. The greater good? Really? Victor has always been so delusional. It really should not have surprised him that he decided to join the bad guys. Fitting for his kind of ego.  
“What greater purpose?” 

“The network. The network is always the purpose of everything we do here. You might ask yourself what kind of rank I'm occupying. Why all these people dance to my tune. I’m their Boss. They all obey me and my word. Since Moriarty left, they announced me as their head.”   
“I know. That was not to difficult to pick up. But why bringing me into their ranks? If you want to destroy my reputation than try again. As I've mentioned before, It has already been done by Moriarty, and frankly, no one even cares about me anymore.” Victor brushed his hand through his shiny, slicked backed blonde hair.   
“That's not what I'm doing, silly. I’m not after your reputation. I'm after you.” Sherlock did not understand.  
“I don't understand” Victor smiled while he made his way to the opposite couch were Sherlock was sitting and sat next to him.  
“I know you don't, what makes it so much more amusing. But it's the only thing that keeps you at bay, the only thing where you truly lose control and where you are beaten. And that's what Moriarty did not achieve. He tried but he played with the wrong weapons. He got so frustrated with himself not being able to catch you, keep up with you, that he lost sight of everything and made silly little mistakes. I won’t be doing the same mistakes, cause I know you too well.” Sherlock began to panick internally but he did not let it show. Victor seemed to be getting closer and closer and Sherlock could feel his hand on his tigh.  
“As I told you before, im not the same. I would never fall for you again.” Sherlocks voice became unsteady. He knew that Victor occupied his weak spot, that this was the very reason why Sherlock was so unsure about this whole situation in the first place. Victor came closer and had Sherlock now cornered at the end of the couch.  
“I know. But still, you’re not able to do anything about it. Because you know im right.” Sherlock could not look him in the eyes any longer. Any minute now and he would show how weak he really was. He did not want Victor to know any of that. He had to stay strong.   
“What do you really want Victor? Anything you say to me will not convince me. Why the charade, why am I here? I need answers.” Victor smiled again. Sherlock felt his hand running up his thigh, the other hand was fixed on Sherlock’s upper cheekbone. He could feel himself getting warmer and his face started to flush. All of a sudden he felt really warm in his suit. He was not the innocent college boy. Somehow though, Victor did not seem to have lost his appeal. He was still as beautiful as Sherlock remembered. He certainly looked like an angel. Well, an angel in disguise.

“ And I need you to shut up William. I’ve waited for this moment to long. To finally be in control again. In control of your mind.” Sherlock tried to shake his head as Victor started to cover Sherlock's cheekbones with featherlight kisses. The minute his lips touched his cheek, Sherlock knew he did not really have any control. He lost that control since he got kidnapped into Victor's world.   
“Don’t”Sherlock's protest came quietly and not really as forcefully as he intended. He just wanted Victor to stop immediately.   
“Shhhhh. Don't fight it.” Victors voice was in control while he slowly started to lift his body onto Sherlock to pin the man down under him. Sherlock did not even know how he ended up underneath him. All he knew was that it felt amazing and that he so desperately wanted to just forget everything around him.   
“Finally” Victor whispered into Sherlock's ear while starting to pull at Sherlock's jacket. Victor worked his way up to Sherlock's cheeks again and got closer towards Sherlock's mouth, which stood slightly open.  
“That's more like it. I like to be on top.” Victor whispered again and finally closing his mouth onto Sherlocks who by now seemed to lay stock still underneath him. Sherlock seemed to be in utter shock of how his body reacted to Victor's touch. He registered Victor's month on his own, and he also registered that he kissed him back, but he felt like he was standing next to the couch, watching himself giving up. Sherlock felt Victors hand in his black curls. He felt Victor's tongue in his mouth which was working against his own, and he really tried to just push Victor off him. But for whatever reason, he wasn't able to. He really tried but this felt way too good, way to familiar.   
“This was easier than I thought.” He heard Victor whisper against his lips. Slowly but surely Sherlock's hand found its way to Victor's first button shirt and started to open them bit by bit as he looked up into Victor's eyes and saw the smug smile which grew soft as Sherlock steadied his glare. Both were breathing hard.  
“As I told you before there is no need for you to be shy about this.” Victor closed his mouth around Sherlock's again while also pulling at Sherlock's white shirt, which he ended up ripping apart. It took way to long for Sherlock to open Victor's shirt so Victor decided to help him with that. He pulled out of the kiss, sat up, while he was still sitting on Sherlock's lap, pinning him down to the couch and undressed his suit jacket never leaving Sherlock's eyes.  
“Look at you.” Victor voiced while also undressing his collar shirt. Sherlock looked defeated while Victor could not wait to pull of more layers and get down to business. 

All of a sudden they heard a loud knock at the door.   
“Ignore it. Don’t say anything, they’ll disappear shortly.” Fat chance, as Victor tried to continue the knocking got louder.   
“For Fucks sakes. Who’s there and I swear if it’s not fucking important heads will roll.” Victor stood up from the sofa and Sherlock's body and opened the door in a swift motion. Sherlock ruffled his hair and sat up on the sofa, managing his clothes. What the hell just happened? Sherlock blinked.  
At the door there stood a young gentlemen with a phone in his hand.  
“It is important Victor. We just received the message. He is on his way.” Victor had to compose himself as the gentlemen at the door would put two and two together seeing Victor worse for wear and Sherlock's messy locks of hair sitting on the sofa, apparently very busy straightening out his clothes.   
“Oh. These are indeed very pleasant news that I need to prepare for as soon as possible. Thank you Phillipe. You can leave now and give me a second to follow you.” Phillipe left immediately while Victor closed the door and turned towards Sherlock. Victor smile never faded while he stepped towards his wardrobe picking out a new jacket and shirt to wear.  
“Business before pleasure” Victor remarked while Sherlock gave him a stirring look.   
“You never answered my question. Am I here for your pleasure or do you wish to use me for any other services.” Sherlocks voice got more steady. His heart nevertheless beat wildly in his chest.  
“I tried to be as clear as possible from the start, William. I made proper arrangements if you decide to stay and work for the greater purpose. However, if you decide against it, I made proper arrangements for you to be forced to reconsider.” Sherlock borrowed his head in his hands.  
“You’re sending John over here, which forces me to reconsider, don't you.” Victor smiled. Such a clever boy.  
“Not only that. I'll bring him here to make sure that you end all your ties to your old life.” Sherlock shook his head in disbelief. Victor knew exactly how to play with him, how to push the right buttons.  
“Why are you doing this?”   
“He’s your pressure point. So I thought why not use it to my advantage. Sherlock looked at him point blank.  
“You’ll kill him, won't you?” One minute he was making out with Victor on this couch, submitting to him again after he swore himself not to, and now this?  
“Well, I have not decided yet. Precious little Dr. I really see why you like  
him. He’s so ordinary.”   
“Don't flatter yourself, Victor. You don't know anything about him.” Victor finished dressing and closed the wardrobe.  
“Oh, but I do. I know enough about the two of you to make you dance to my tune. And he’s going to dance. He would not have decided to come here if he did not know what the outcome could be.” Sherlock stood from the sofa facing Victor who brushed his hair back into the right place.  
“You don't need him to ensure anything. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, just please, don't bring him into this.” Victors smile could not grow bigger as he stepped towards Sherlock equalling his height.   
“No need to beg, darling. I’ve just seen how loyal you can be, but I feel that you are not ready what you about to give up. Also, I need some proof. I'm not letting you into the network without knowing that I can trust you.”   
“YOU CAN TRUST ME” Sherlock tried to sound as convincing as possible.  
“How can I ever know?” Victor replied and did not miss to give Sherlock a small peck on the mouth before he headed towards the door.   
Sherlock looked irritated as hell.  
“Don't look so surprised, William. You knew that this was coming.” Victor ended, stepped out of the door and closed it behind him. Sherlock fell back onto the couch.


	7. John's Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the longest chapters with a mean cliffhanger. The location of Mary is for me to know and for you to find out. But it's safe to say that Mary is never too far away and usually two steps ahead of the game.
> 
> John has to face the only man he believes has defeated the great consulting detective. How far has Victor infiltrated the mind of Sherlock Holmes and how well is John coping with Victor's mind games?

Mary was speaking while John tried to hang on to her lips every word. He saw her move her mouth but he wasn't sure that anything really registered in his brain. He had to get a grip now that they were in Mycroft's SUV with some of his guys from MI5 to get John to the drop off point where he was certainly on his own. He knew where to go. Moriarty's men or whoever they claim to be had made clear arrangements and directions on how they wanted this drop off to go. Still, once out of that SUV, he was on his own into the unknown. The location that he was supposed to go to, was secluded and he did not really look forward to being by himself, although Mary was never far away. He knew Moriarty's people would pick him up and drag him away, hopefully to the location Sherlock was being held hostage.But he was used to those circumstances somehow, just a bit out of training, he reckoned. But he was still a soldier. He had multiple near-death experiences in his lifetime. He could handle that as well.   
“Ok. I know. I will do my best to give you the best conditions to do your job, Mary. I just want to get in quickly and get out of there quickly.” Mary nodded while crawling his neck.  
“I know darling, but It won't be that easy. There needs to be a lot of monitoring from Mycroft's guys, on top of that we have no clue with what people we’re dealing with. As Sherlock mentioned, Moriarty's network is vast. It will take more than the two of us to finally dismantle this organization. All we can hope for at the moment is that they are not about to kill you on the spot. As Mycroft mentioned before and I am certain of that as well is, that they will keep you alive to have a hold on Sherlock. I will be on your toes at all times, so you will never be alone.”  
“I don't want to dismantle the network. I just want to get Sherlock out of there. As soon as possible.” Mary smiled.   
“And we will. You just have to believe in it. Don't worry. It's all about teamwork. And we have the best guys to help us out.” John smiled back and both startled when they heard the SUV stopping in front of an open landmark with nothing but fields of green surrounding them. One of the agents looked to the back were John and Mary were sitting clutching their hands together.  
“It's time Captain.” John was ready. Hearing his title he tried to pump himself up. This was really it. He would selflessly launch himself into the unknown for the sake of saving his friend.Well, he wasn't sure about that either. Was Sherlock really a friend at this point? Just a friend?  
“Right. I'm ready” both Mary and John got out of the black SUV. John checked if he had everything with him, his equipment, but most importantly was the GPS tracker that he had swallowed down just a few hours ago.   
“Don't forget, I'll be seeing you shortly. Moriarty's men surely won’t waste any time to get you in there.” John nodded, he seemed to be zoning out more and more while Mary checked if he had everything he needed. John just carried a black backpack and essentials for the next two days, although everyone expected him to be tracked down by Moriarty's men within hours. He would be following the root they had given to Mycroft which would lead him straight into their realm.   
“Yes, I know. I am not worried not to see you. I know you're the best at what you do, so it's not a goodbye its more a see you later.” Mary seemingly tried to compose herself and embraced her husband who caught her in a warming hug.   
“I love you and please be careful,” Mary whispered into his ear while John tried his best not to let his emotions overwhelm him.  
“Don't worry, I will and I love you too. Don't you forget that.” He pointed towards the open field while Mary tried for a smile and let her husband take his first steps. More a field of the unknown. 

John was not sure how long it would take for the network to finally find him as they did not really make any remarks about how they would find him and when they would abduct him.   
The only thing he knew and also had on him as a point of orientation was the map who was leading him towards an old industrial location. It would maybe take him an hour of walking through the field to get there, so he also had enough time to think about what will happen in the next 24 hours. For John it was not even about the next 24 hours it was more about his life and what would change, throwing himself into danger like that. Before he left this afternoon he made sure to memorize every single detail of his daughter's face. Any single sound she made and every single movement. He just could not let go, and he even did not know until now why he did let go. Why he did decide to metaphorically take the plunge and throw himself into a life and death situation just to save another human being. Furthermore risking the life of his wife in the process, and risking for Charlotte to grow up without her parents. Just because of him. Everything since he met this man, was about him. John’s life has changed so much since he met him all those years ago.   
Sherlock has saved his life and then took it away from him and then had come back to take it away again. The truth was Mycroft understood Sherlock and Johns relationship better than anyone. Both had the power to hurt the other in such tremendous ways and at the same time being able to make each other feel alive as no one else was capable of doing.   
John took long strides through the field thinking about the last couple of years, and all of a sudden found himself in fighter mode again. He was so used to that mindset in his years of service for the army as an army doctor. 

It took John a good hour until he reached the beginning of the old factory building at the end of the field.He knew that this would be the place that he had to wait to get tracked by the network. As this thought was crossing through his mind he saw someone walking up behind him.   
“Good job. You’re very punctual.” John immediately turned around and saw a rather beautiful woman with long, straight, black hair stepping out of the field behind him.  
“How did you,……Were you following me this whole time?”   
“Well, Kind of. I'm here now, am I?” John swallowed slowly and nodded.  
“Right. So I suspect you are part of Moriarty's network?” The woman stepped in front of John crossing her arms in front of her chest. She looked really stunning, John had to confess.   
“Don't expect me to answer that question. I’m here to take you to base before checking if you have anything on you that could cause problems.” She smiled lightly while looking him up and down.   
“Go ahead, check away.” John threw his backpack in front of her while she started to check his body for any unwelcome tools. John tried to compose himself and tried not to show that he was on a bit of an edge having this beautiful woman touch his way through his clothes, but also to have this woman lead him into his assumingly worst nightmare ever.  
“You are not shy at all Dr. Watson. I literally can hear you think.” John huffed.  
“You are funny. This is not necessarily a situation I find myself in every day.” She finished inspecting John and his stuff and giggled.  
“That's very true. Throwing yourself into a hostage situation deliberately is something that I've for sure never seen before, I admire the courage.” John looked at her in disbelief.   
“Well, we really can not talk about free will here. You have got someone in your possession.” She made a gesture towards a car that was standing next to the old factory. John followed her.  
“Still. I've been reviewing your records, had to keep tabs on you for ages, so I know what you are willing to throw away by doing this.” John followed the mysterious woman into the car, while the woman turned on the engine and they started to drive down the road.   
“By the way, you know nothing about me. For whatever reason you ended up doing this job, it does not tell you anything about a person or a person's motivations. You might have shadowed me, but that does not mean you know who I am.” The woman extended her hand to the surprise of John.  
“Well, you've got a good point. It does take more than shadowing to know a person's weaknesses and strengths. So let me introduce myself, I’m Alex.” John was taken aback by her seemingly decent behavior but stretched his hand out to shake hers.   
“I can not really say that it's nice to meet you, Alex. I have got no idea where you are taking me or what's about to happen to me.” Alex chuckled.  
“I know. But there is not really anything you should particularly fear as long as you play along, you will be fine.” John did not know if that should keep him at ease or make him more scared.  
“And by playing along you mean playing along to whoever your Boss is?” She nodded.  
“Yes. You could say that” Alex kept her eyes on the road.  
“Your friend just got himself into the unlucky position of causing too much-unwanted attention.That kind of attention that needs further investigation.” John heart rate picked up by the mentioning of Sherlock.  
“Where is he and what have they done to him?” Alex looked towards him and gave him a faint smile.  
“Nothing too unpleasant. You really don't need to worry. As I said if you play along you will have nothing to worry about meaning you’ll be able to see your daughter again very soon, Dr. Watson.” That was not comforting at all, although it should have made John more relaxed about the impending doom. 

The drive towards the base, or wherever Sherlock was held took longer than John had anticipated. At one point he questioned if there were driving out of the country but Alex did stop at a certain point and drove through what seemed to be a small suburban city. John had no clue in which part of England they drove through but he managed to sneak a few glances into the wing mirror. Alex drove towards a big building which looked like a Hotel from the outside. It was a little bit secluded from the city but not too far to reach with a car. The car came to a stop.  
“We’ve arrived. From the moment we step into the gate, just follow me without questions. And do not talk.” She glared at John and her tone was more than serious. John just nodded and got out of the car.

“You won't be needing this any longer” She pointed towards the backpack which John did drop immediately by just looking at her glare. She seemed to be putting on a different demeanor the closer they got towards their so-called base. John followed Alex who pointed towards the big gates that circled the building. She typed in some code and got out some sort of ID card to get granted access through the gates. John all the while turned his head constantly and hoped that Mary had tracked his location. At least Mycroft now knew where they were based and it was possible for them to intervene if something was about to go very wrong. Alex directed John through the gates and into the base.   
“What is this place?.” He said more to himself than anyone while earning another stern glare from Alex, which silenced him immediately. Alex was really intense, although she had shown some friendliness towards him earlier.  
“Keep your eye on the prize, Dr. Watson. Questions are not going to get you anywhere.” Alex giggled a little while they were walking towards the entrance what seemed to look like a very prestigious looking Hotel.   
“What prize? I did not know that there was something to win in this game.” They walked through the corridors while Johns thoughts were spinning around in his head. There were no people around. It was just him and Alex walking. The place seemed to be completely empty, which he knew could not be the case. How should he react when he would get to Sherlock? What was the gameplan, should he just wait for a sign from Mary? Should he just wait for Mycroft's people to come and get him?   
“Well. It's a game you’ll have no control over.” John nodded to himself and hushed his voice.   
“How unfortunate.” Alex lead them to an elevator and pressed to the fifth floor. John stood next to her and he could feel his erratic pulse. It felt like a game. Like it was not real. Only it was very real, and this was a very real situation which could lead to both of their deaths if he would not play his cards right. He’d just hoped that Mary was always one step ahead of him.   
“Quit the brooding Dr. Watson. As I said before. You’re going to be fine if you just play along. Boss can be very accommodating when you grant him the same courtesy.” Alex half smiled and licked her lips. John had to point out, that he rarely has seen such a beautiful young women quite like her. She had impeccable taste in clothes and style and the way she held herself spoke volumes about her confidence and graze.   
“If you want to keep my mind at ease about the whole situation than thank you’re doing a really good job, but I can not seem to stop myself from thinking that I’ve been called in here to either sacrifice or compromise myself.” Alex nodded as the lift came to a halt and opened.   
“Very well Dr. Watson. After You.” John frowned. What was that suppose to mean?  
“Where are we going” He stepped out of the elevator, leading the way now without fully knowing where he was going.  
“Not at liberty to say. But just follow the corridor. It's the last door on the right.” John startled.   
“You leave me to myself.” Alex nodded and turned.  
“Indeed. My job here is done. Also, I just want to advise you to not get cute. Don't misstep there are no real opportunities to escape in these corridors.” She gave John a last once-over before she walked in the opposite direction. John blinked and found himself in the empty corridor. From now he really was not sure what he was supposed to do. Should he really go down that corridor and open a door where he might never come out of. He began to walk down the corridor. There was no point to contemplate. Sherlock was somewhere in this building. 

He walked past several doors before he knocked on the last one to the right as instructed.  
“Come in” a voice came from inside. A man's voice. He slowly opened the doorknob with sweaty palms and walked inside he beautiful hotel suite. But his stare immediately narrowed down towards the man who was sitting behind a desk, a scotch in his hand and his feet up his desk.   
“Dr. Watson. Finally.” Posh English accent surrounded the tensed atmosphere. John made his way in slow strides towards the desk and the chair which was placed in front.   
“Yes, Indeed. Please do sit down and be my guest.” The man with the posh English accent and in a similar posh three-piece suit ordered. John looked him dead in the eyes as he placed himself on the chair. He was definitely tall, although he was not standing. Green eyes, blonde hair, so handsome it was really unbearable. John immediately despised him. Whoever he was.  
“Speechless as I see. But please, there's no need for intimidation. I've been looking forward to this moment for quite a while.” John swallowed.  
“Don't you say. How do I owe the pleasure?” John could not believe his situation. He really needed his wife by his side right now.  
“Well, that's a very interesting question. As I can see from your facial expression you are as confused as the first time Sherlock was brought here….” Johns' heart began to race.  
“Where is he?” He immediately cut in and his voice lowered, his fists clenched.  
“Oh oh, touchy subject I feel. But that's why you’ve come, haven’t you? Sherlock Holmes.” John swallowed again.  
“I guess so. Very brave of you. A true and loyal friend. And I have to say, I can see what he sees in you now.” Victor sipped on his glass of scotch.  
“In the flesh, you seem to have way more character than I was expecting.” John got more and more uncomfortable.   
“Who are you and what do you want?” Victor stood up from his comfortable chair and walked around the desk to lean on it. Never leaving Johns' eyes.  
“I wanted to see what you do and you did not disappoint. You have sacrificed literally everything to come here just to get a glimpse of him. And you're not even certain if I will grant you that wish.” John flexed. It became harder to hold Victors death stare.  
“I'm here because you gave me no choice.” Victor chuckled.  
“No choice. How's that? There's always a choice? You chose him over your family. Your daughter. Otherwise, you would not be here and completely give up any control over your life. A life that is now in my hands.” John shook his head.  
“I don't play games. And whoever you are or whatever agenda you have against Sherlock or me, I'd suggest you get on with it. I did not come here for chit-chat.” Victor smiled.   
“That's more like it. I knew you had that in you, Dr. Watson. Pleased to meet you. Victor Trevor, head of the spider web.” Victor held out his hand in greeting. John ran a shiver down his spine. So this was it. Victor Trevor was the legitimate head, the right hand of James Moriarty.   
“Is that really necessary?” He blurted and looked down towards his hand in disgust.  
“I insist Dr. Watson. As I said its better to indulge me.” John just wished he could wipe that smug smile right off his face. Nevertheless, John shook his hand.  
“Very well. Now that we made our introductions, its time to clear some things up. I assume you want to know what is going to happen and what your actual function will be?” John nodded lightly while Victor began to circle his desk again and wipe out a folder which he lazily plucked down in front of John.  
“That's my project and future plans for the network. Everything you have to know about me and what you see in front of you is explained in that folder. Only me and me alone, however, can execute that plan.” John began to open the folder.  
“What plan exactly.” Victor smiled.  
“The same plan as always. Securing power by gaining more power.” John huffed.  
“Of course. Power play. But what has Sherlock got to do with it? Is it because of Mycroft Holmes?”  
“No. His brother has nothing to do with it. Mycroft Holmes is not of interest to me any longer. William, however, he will be my greatest achievement.” John did a double take. William?  
“What? Wondering why I of all people prefer to call him that.” John could not say anything. He was just staring, rather in shock.  
“He's opposed to that idea as well. But let's be clear. Sherlock sounds too chaotic, too unhinged. Unlike William, which does fit a specimen like him.” John gulped, he did not want to hear that. He really did not want to hear any more of that.  
“William sounds credible and brilliant. Exactly like him.” John began to feel his pulse become erratic. He felt the sweat. He felt that he was beginning to become lightly wavered.   
“What are you implying?” Victor enjoyed every second of it.  
“I'm not implying anything. Just the sheer fact that I do know William better than you, Dr. Watson. In fact, I know him so well, that I can measure his pressure points, that I can make him give up control, that I can make him dance to my tune. Who else can say that for themselves? Being in full control of the mind of Sherlock Holmes.” John was getting more physically sick by the second. He became pale.  
“Oh god. Are u in shock dear Dr. Watson. You must be. Having come to terms that it’s not yourself who holds that privilege”John's fist clenched uncontrollably now. He would not give Victor that satisfaction.  
“What are you saying?” He just did not want to believe anything Victor was implying.  
“Oh come on Dr. Watson. Even you by now have to realize what I mean by saying this. William and I go way back. College years. I know William for ages, although our paths have parted before graduation, He never left my mind.” John blinked. He could not believe it.  
“So what is this. A personal vendetta.” Victor shook his head.  
“Oh no, nothing like that. It's rather a mistake I want to correct. See, I know that it would be difficult and all, having followed you two for years now, seeing how close you’ve become. It was not easy to come to terms with that. William being his good self, trying to work for a good cause. Well, what can I say, the tables have turned and you've become my security blanket. My blank check.” John looked down at his fists. He did not expect that. An enemy who knew Sherlock better than he himself knew Sherlock. Someone who had that amount of knowledge, that power over him.  
“Now what, Dr. Watson. Not a tiny bit curious what happened between me and him way back then?” Victor was enjoying this immensely.  
“I Don't need to know.” He cut in.  
“But you desperately want to. I can see it all over your face. All the unanswered questions make your skin crawl from your flesh, doesn’t it? And I can understand. Who would want to have a competition as good looking and charming like me.” Now John began to chuckle.  
“There is no competition.”   
“You sure about that. Cause I feel there always has been. The minute I saw you, I knew that I would do anything to get him back.” John frowned.  
“What? Sherlock is my friend. We’re not a couple. I am married.” Victor started to laugh loudly.  
“Oh my god, I totally forgot. Your wife. Lovely Mary.” Victor clenched between laughter. John felt more and more unsure and unsafe about this whole thing. It really turned into some kind of freak show.  
“What?” He startled and began to look up to Victor.  
“I know her very well. In fact, I was the one who sent her to you and very thought out plan to drive a vetch between you and William. Well, If we are totally clear about it, Moriarty gave her that job before he decided to blow his own brains out. She still did it, with absolute conviction. A true professional that one.” John froze up.His muscles were twisting. He had to remember that nothing this man was saying to him was to ever be taken for the truth.   
“You’re lying.” Victor shook his head.  
“No, actually I'm not. And I can prove it.” He looked down to his desk as he spoke into one of his gadgets.   
“Alex, send her in at once if you can get a hold of her.”   
“You’re lying. Stop lying” John sprang from his seat and punched his fists on the desk.  
“ Well. I do feel horrible about it Dr. Watson. But it is the truth. Do you really think a woman like her would be interested in a man like you, with all the whining and jamming after William decided to jump off that building? It was, I have to admit, very dramatic. But come an, you yourself have to realize that any other woman would have been running for the hills with a basket case like yours.” Johns' eyes were glowing. This was not real. Victor was just trying to play with his mind, in the same way, he apparently played with Sherlock's mind.  
“If its any consolation, she said you were rather good in bed.” John sprang towards Victor trying to grab him by the throat, which Victor blocked by holding up a gun right up his face.  
“Not so fast Dr. Watson. I'm not a trained assassin, so let's wait for the real one.” Right on cue, the door cracked open.


	8. Blonde Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time I decided to put the two storylines in one chapter. 
> 
> Mary and Johns's relationship is important to how John is reviewing his past actions. Mary is a character who is playing quite a big part in this story. She's everything I wanted her to be in the show: Strong, fearless, dangerous and exciting.

Introducing Mary Morstan, or Mary Watson? Nobody really knew at this point. John let his hand that was clammed in front of his mouth, drop to his side. Infront of him stood his perfectly styled wife, the young woman with the black long hair called Alex and another tall looking guy with a gun in his hand which was pointed at him. John was about to walk towards his wife, eager to hold her and never let go of her but the tall man next to her made it very clear that he would pull that trigger if John made just about any tiny movement towards them.

“God Mary. Thank god your safe.” Mary looked at him with sorrow eyes, her whole demeanor seemed different. She looked sad and at the same time like a totally different person.  
“Please John, don't move and stay back.” John frowned and tried to push whatever lies Victor was feeding him off his mind. Victor stood behind John, eyeing the blonde assassin and grinned wildly. This seemed too good to be true? How dumb could he be?  
John was turning his head slowly towards him.  
"Let her go. I don't care what happens to me, but if you touch one hair on her head, I swear I will kill you and every person in this building." Victor started to laugh more enthusiastically now. This seemed to be quite a good day for him. Everything that he has been planning for years has paid off in the end. He would finally achieve what he's been working towards for so long.  
"You're really funny Dr. Watson and apparently you're deaf too if you haven't caught what I said earlier. She's one of the most loyal members of this very successful organization. She's the best crack shot, I have ever seen and apparently, she's an exceptionally talented actress if she'd managed to convince you that she had any romantic feelings towards you." John shook his head again and began to make steps towards the woman he believed to be his wife. Victor shrug is shouldered amusingly and Mary started to borrow her hands in front of her face in frustration.  
"Stop walking for godsakes, John." She blasted at him, which made John finally stop in his tracks.  
"He's lying. Tell me he's lying and I will stop at once." His whole body was shaking but he snapped as he looked his wife in the eyes. She actually looked him in the eyes and John knew that Victor was right. Mary stayed quiet. Just seeing the look on her face was finally enough for John to know that this was not his wife he was dealing with any longer. It was a stranger. A stranger that she always had been.  
“He is right about you, isn't he? Huh, did you play me all this time? Did you?” John shouted loudly at her. Tears were welling up in his eyes. This betrayal was unparalleled. He began to shiver again. This seemed all too much. He did not know how to cope with that.  
“John Listen to me.” Mary tried to sus him, attempted to make a few steps towards him.  
“No. You lied. You are a liar. Always have been. And I trusted you to get us out. I trusted you for god sakes.” He screamed at her while Mary was still struggling to keep him calm. Though, her face did not show any emotions.  
“Tell him, Mary. It's better he knows that everything he believed in was a lie. Not only is your marriage a lie, your entire life is one. It must suck to have the love of your life ripped from you like that” Victor chuckled while John looked into an empty space.  
“She's not the love of my life.” Mary looked down, avoiding Johns glare, while Victor was walking towards Mary.  
A single tear rolled over John's cheek while Victor embraced Mary into a hug.  
“Good job my love. I could not have done it better. You truly are one of our best.” John turned around in disgust and also because he had to get himself under control. There was no time to act on anger or grief right now, not in this situation. Not right now. He needed to get himself out of this situation first. He couldn't count on,...he didn't even know what to call her anymore, lying piece of shit or bitch. No, these names were all still too good for her.  
“Thanks. I hope I did not disappoint you. Sherlock was far more difficult to play.” For John, these words were like sharp knives. Less than four hours ago he was embracing his wife in a loving hug, wishing that he would see her and his daughter again.  
“I know. He's way to brilliant for his own good. It's going to take awhile until I strip him of his delusions. But rest assured he’s going to be our next best thing. My greatest achievement.” All of a sudden, John turned around again, focusing his attention more towards Victor then to the stranger next to him.  
“What does that mean. What are you doing to him?” Victor placed an arm around Mary who clutched her gun tightly to her body.  
“Well. Not really your concern but as I've mentioned many times before, William is going to be joining the team. You being here ensures his loyalty to me.” John blinked.  
“In what sense? What are you doing to him?” Victor smiled and let go of mary. He really hated to repeat himself over and over again for the lower, less clever minds.  
“Nothing that he's not willing to give up. Do you really think that I would let someone like him go? Someone so brilliant, so magnificent. I had him once, and I want to make sure that I will never lose control of him again.” John stared him down.  
“He is not a toy. He's not yours, he never will be.” Victor smiled.  
“I guess we see about that. I advise, Dr. Watson that from now on you will be as silent as a grave. You won't talk until I ask you to. You won't try to escape or do anything that will jeopardize my plan you find on that desk. If you decide to retaliate I will take you out so quickly, you won't even have time to blink. Understood?” John looked him directly in the eyes and could see the coldness inside them, the hardness and the sheer inhumanity. He was certain that Victor was capable of anything.  
“Yeah,” John said while narrowing his eyes towards the blonde stranger who made signs to follow him. He really didn't want to go anywhere with her. He was on the edge of being capable of killing her for what she did to him. The mother of his child, the woman he thought he'd loved.  
“Please. Do follow your wife to the room your going to stay in for the time being. I guess you two have a lot to talk about” Victor said with that smug smile of his while returning towards his desk as John followed mary outside the room. He had no other choice than to obey Victor's orders.

Meanwhile, Sherlock looked half frightened and half startled when his suit door opened. He was bucked up in this room for hours and was running around in circles trying to figure out what had happened with him and Victor and what there were doing to John. Alex rushed in and greeted him with a smile.  
“Mr. Holmes. Would you mind sitting down for a second?” Sherlock refused point blank but slowed his pace.  
“No. You tell me what the hell is going on? I need answers, now” Alex smiled.  
“Not at liberty to say.” Sherlock was running into her personal space and pushed her against the door.  
“I don't care what you or Victor have planned for me. I just don't want to get anybody involved in this mess. Your Boss is trying to blackmail me for no reason.” Alex smiled grew deeper.  
“I can definitely see what he sees in you. You're a very passionate person, Mr. Holmes. This temper of yours is going to get you into trouble though. Nevertheless, too bad you are not interested in the fair sex.” Sherlock let go of her, looking incredulous.  
“I'm not interested in anyone. And definitely not interested in your so-called Boss. He's a lunatic like he always has been and I'm not playing his games any longer.” Alex crossed her arms in front of her chest.  
“I believe you have no other choice than to indulge him. Dr. Watson has entered the base.” Sherlock knew that this would happen eventually, but why now? Why here?  
“No, please. You have to stop him.” Sherlock screamed at the top of his lungs and invaded Alex personal space again.  
“Nothing that I could do will stop him from executing his plan. And his plan is very elaborate. You just need to play along and no one will get hurt. That's what I have been telling Dr. Watson all along. He's safe as long as you play along.” Alex made sure to stare him down while Sherlock was running in circles, trying to clear his head.  
“How. What does this entail me to do?” 

All of a sudden the second door to the suite opened revealing Victor and a company to his right. A woman again. Victor apparently kept a lot of women around him. Sherlock's stomach turned the minute he laid eyes on the man who has been turning his life upside down.  
“You cut all your ties to the man you know as Dr. John Watson.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes, tried to steady his beating heart.  
“You will let him go. If I do as you please you will let him go.” Victor came up to him.  
“Maybe. It all depends on how good of an actor you are because we both know how much you care about him. I know you better than you want to admit William. I see the look in your eye and can tell how much the soldier means to you. Which is baffling to me having just met him in person. Seems to be quite an ordinary guy.” Sherlock blinked. He did not want to face the truth. That John was actually here, trying to save him.  
“ He's anything but ordinary. Exceptional would be the best word to describe him.” Victor laughed and gave a quick look towards Alex, ordering the two women to leave Sherlock and him alone.  
“Well, I'm sorry, all I can see is ordinary. But to come back to your question. I will explain how you can free him. How you can send him away for good” Victor said and draped himself onto the couch.  
“ It's easy really. You break his heart and he is free to go.” Sherlock tried to keep his breathing steady.  
“Break his heart.” Victor laughed again.  
“Yes. You tell him, that he’s worthless pretty much and that you’ve never cared for him." Sherlock bit his lip and shrugged his shoulders.  
"How would that have any effect. He doesn't feel that way about me and I don't feel that way about him either." Sherlock was a good sport, he at least tried to be subtle. Victor really applauded Sherlocks continuous attempt to play down the blatant love between them. Victor wasn't born yesterday. He has done years of observing the two of them together, so he could tell that Sherlock fought with every fiber of his being to not let it show how much he cared about the doctor.  
"Well, we can play that game and I could join in, but I want to save myself a little time and get to the point straight away. You tell Dr. Watson that you don't care about him, that your allegiance to the network has always been part of who you are and that you created your detective persona as a disguise." Sherlock fell onto the couch and stared into blank space.  
“Come on, William. You did not really think that I would make it easy for you. As much as I want to see you happy and pleased I cant ignore the fact that I need to get my revenge somehow.” Sherlock shook his head.  
“Revenge for what?”  
Victor smiled.  
“for dumping me.” Sherlock huffed to himself.  
“So it is personal. This whole thing is a set up just so you get your personal revenge.” Victor shook his head vehemently.  
“No. No.” Sherlock felt a hand under his chin, turning his face towards him.  
“Don't you see. This whole thing is a set up to get you. That's all I want. I want you.” Sherlock stares into Victors eyes. Those eyes. Why is it so hard to turn away when all Sherlock wants to do right now is punch him in his perfectly crafted face.  
“Your lying. You always were good at lying, Victor. You just want to own me. To show everyone that you defeated the great detective. This is about power. You always were such a power hungry asshole.” Victor clenched his teeth and brushed his fingers around Sherlock's cheekbone.  
“Yeah. I was. But things have changed. I don't want you for prestige sake. I want you for you. I always have.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes.  
“This is sick.” Victor followed his eyes and began to brush small kisses onto his cheekbones.  
“It's not. I mean it.” Tears began to well up in Sherlock's eyes. How could he escape this? He did not want this at all. He just wanted to be free.  
“And I mean it. I just want you to let go of your old life. There's so much I can give you. I'm not the man you met in college.” Victor began to bury his fingers into Sherlocks jet black locks while drawing him in into a kiss.


	9. The Reckoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor continues executing his plan while Sherlock is left with no choice. 
> 
> N: A shorter chapter but it leads up to the big confrontation in the next chapter.

Sherlock was avoiding the kiss and turned his face to the side so Victor was kissing the air.   
"Even if you weren't lying about this. The fact remains, I am not the boy you met back in college. I don't want you, Victor." Victor cringed his face and pushed Sherlock's face by the chin again in an aggressive motion.   
"What about earlier? What happened then? I can recall you panting underneath me." He shook his head in regret.  
"I was in shock, that's all. I didn't know how to react." Victor raised a brow and leaned back a bit.  
"Whatever you say. I know the truth, and I know you want this but won't admit it. And I can't fault you due to what happened between us in the past. You probably scared that I am not being genuine." Sherlock turned his face again.  
"I am not scared."   
"You are. But nevermind. I put most of the blame on your brother anyways. He's your backbone as much as he is your downfall." Sherlock kept silent while Victor leaned further into Sherlock again and began to pull at Sherlock's shirt.   
“I, can't.” Sherlock tried to reject but victor drew him in further and started to put more weight into his actions. He pulled Sherlock down to the couch again and tried to pin him down as much as possible.   
“Don't fight it, William. We both know you want it. You've never been that shy before. Why now?” Sherlock did not know how to respond at first but seem to push violently at Victor's body to get him off himself. All of a sudden, Victor slapped him hard right across the face. Sherlock felt a sharp pain through his skull and his cheek was burning like fire, so much so that tears were rushing to his eyes.   
"If you don't obey. I will kill your precious little Doctor and I will do it in front of your eyes." Victor whispered in a harsh manner into his ear while leaning down and ripping Sherlock's shirt open. Sherlock couldn't react at all. He started to shake. He knew that Victor was a sick bastard, so why was he surprised by anything he did?  
Victor smiled down at him while his hands were roaming around Sherlock's torso trying to get as much skin exposed as possible. Sherlock, on the other hand, felt sick to his stomach. There wasn't really anything he could do at this point. He believed Victor's threats on John. He would execute him if Sherlock didn't do as he was told.  
"realizing how weak you really are?"How could someone who looked so much like an angel be that evil? Sherlock tried at least to close his eyes and not think about that Victor was about to sexually abuse him. The blonde-haired man continued to spread kisses onto his neck with such delicacy and tenderness that Sherlock started to feel warmer. Victor has always been very talented with his tongue.   
“You should be enjoying this.” Victors hand found its way to Sherlocks behind and squeezed hard. He pushed Sherlock against the couch again and ripped his shirt now completely open in one swift movement. Sherlock nudged and closed his eyes while he still tried to fight against that tingling feeling that was creeping up inside of him. It was arousal and he hated it.   
“Here we are again where we left off.” Sherlock's eyes kept close. He could not look Victor in the eye, while he opened Sherlock's shirt and spread kisses all over his upper body.  
“Wow. You really are perfect in every sense of the word.” Heavy breaths clouded the area while victor was about to open Sherlock's belt.  
Sherlock at this point was just breathing hard in return biting his lips to not make a sound while he became aware of his ever-growing reaction towards Victors skilled touches.   
“There's nothing that I want to see more than you losing control for once.” He stated while opening Sherlock's belt. 

All of a sudden the door to the room fell open and Sherlock immediately froze in place. Same as Victor who looked more than pissed off. Who dared to interrupt them again without even a single knock on the door?  
“Oh, not again.” He swore and let his head fall onto Sherlock's biceps.   
“I hope you have a fucking good reason Alex for interrupting, otherwise I am really close to locking you into one of the cells.” Alex turned her body to give both men some privacy to collect their clothes.  
"I am sorry, Boss, but It's an urgent call. A tracker was found in Dr. Watson body." Victor lifted his body off Sherlock's and collected his shirt from the floor, taking his time to put it back on again. Sherlock's eyes were wide open again as he was putting his clothes on and into place again.   
"You can turn around now," Victor said quiet calm.  
"I am really sorry to interrupt but I thought you should know." He chuckled and brushed one hand through his perfect blonde hair.  
"I know. In fact, I knew all along, but thank you for wanting to warn me." Alex stood a bit helpless in the room trying not to turn her attention to Sherlock who didn't seem to move a lot on that couch.  
"...and you're not at all concerned about this." He shook his head just lightly.  
"Not really, no. I mean, I expected him to come prepared so I made some arrangements myself. Noone will find him here, trust me on this Alex. His tracker is absolutely useless in the radius that we are operating in. Mycroft Holmes is clever, but I am much cleverer." He stated and Alex felt a bit embarrassed to have bothered him.  
"You should actually know that by now, knowing how the network chooses their locations. But granted, you haven't been with us for a long time, so I'm sure it's more to do with your lack of knowledge than actual stupidity. You know much I dislike stupidity, don't you Alex." She lowered her head.  
"Yes, I do boss. Please excuse my ignorance. I am sorry to have bothered you." Victor signed, but Alex came actually at a convenient time. Why drag it along, when he could finish it right here and then.  
So before Alex had a chance to turn to leave, Victor grabbed her by the wrist.   
"Hang on. You interrupted us actually at the right point in time. I almost forgot the introductions. I am so clumsy sometimes and can be quite rude." Alex frowned in confusion as well as Sherlock who now turned towards the tow of them. Victor grinned and eyed Sherlock on the couch.  
"I think I need to introduce Dr. Watson to the new member of our network, William Holmes." Sherlock shook his head frantically and stood on the couch.  
"Please don't. Please don't do this Victor. Not now." He pleaded but that wasn't going to have any effect on Victor, so he ignored it and turned his attention back to a very confusing looking Alex.  
"Alex. Could you please fetch Dr. Watson and bring him to me. William and I are going to wait here for him." Sherlock covered his hands in front of his face. He couldn't confront John. Not right now. Not after this and he was certain that Victor wanted to execute his plan. Alex turned to leave while Sherlock dropped to his knees in front of Victor.  
"Don't be so dramatic. The sooner we're getting this done, the easier for him. And you could actually be happy about it, you're precious Dr. will stay alive and well." Sherlock repeatedly shook his head.  
"You're just doing out of spite, just so you can get back at John and me. You can just let him walk free and I still would have to follow your every command, because you are right. I'll admit it. I care about him" Victor chuckled again.   
"Shocker. Who knew. But yes, I might do this just to hurt you more than I already have. Because as much as I want you on my team, I equally as much want you to feel how I felt when you broke me. How much it hurt, and I want you to look into his eyes and see how love turns to hate. How disgusted he will be for what you did to him." Sherlock lifted himself from the ground, accepting his faith really wished for a high building now where he could throw himself off to avoid the inevitable.   
"Right. If that's the only way to save him then okay. I'll do whatever it takes." Victor took a moment to fully look at the man in front of him. He looked utterly defeated. There was nothing left of the arrogant sod that he knew so well from college. Victor was very pleased with himself.


	10. Secret Assassin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, I promise the confrontation is going to happen in the next chapter;) There were a lot of things unsaid between John and Mary that had to be explored before the confrontation. But I'm already working eagerly on the next chapter as it's going to be the longest and biggest one.
> 
> John and Mary have a one-on-one and secrets come to light which changes the course of all the different dynamics of the characters!

From what John could gather they were two floors below the hotel suite that John had met the apparent boss of the spider web, or as they were calling it "the network". A secret organization that was extending it's web at a rapid speed. John really had none to little knowledge about Moriarty's organization, all he knew was that it comprised the most skilled criminals in the whole of Britain. The best people you can get for any job, assassination, kidnapping etc. One of those people stood at the corner of the room, next to the window. Her gun clung tight to her body on her left hip. She was all in black, just her blue eyes were shining through and blonde strands of hair were sticking out of the black cap that was covering her head. John was sitting on the sofa, his hands covering his tired eyes. He really needed a week to sleep and recover from what has happened.   
"You know that we need to talk at one point. I think I've given you enough time to calm down, but there are things that you need to know. Things that need to explain." John looked at her from across the room, a sarcastic grin on his face. He didn't even bother to give her the courtesy to acknowledge her presence in the room.  
"I know that you must be off your head with everything that's been happening to you, but I want to explain myself. I think you and me, and our marriage deserves that at least." John chuckled amusingly now. This woman had some cheek to even spell the word marriage out loud in front of him. What kind of marriage was left between the two?   
"We have nothing to say to each other anymore and I will never be ready to talk about this ever. So if I get the chance to come out of this situation alive, my lawyer will send you the divorce papers. Until everything has settled, Charlotte will have to stay with her mother. As soon as I win custody, I'll take her away from you." His voice was calm and collected. Mary wasn't really surprised to hear that. After all, she knew her husband.  
"Fine. The soldier in you wants to fight me at all costs and I understand that. Really, I do. But we really need to talk about this. I want to explain my situation also I want to tell you what probably will happen next." John brushed his hands over his face in frustration.   
"Why?" Mary made no move to come closer. Her eyes faded over the glass window next to her, the only window with no grit in front of it.   
"Because I still care about you." John stood on the couch in an attempt to shake off the range that was hitting him again. He needed to walk. He always ran in circles if he needed to clear his head. Mary knew that.  
"You don't care about me. You never did. I was just a job to you. A job that you were given and you played your part well. Really well. I really believed that what we had was special. That what we had was what I always wanted." Mary turned a bit towards him brushing her knuckles against her left hip.  
"It was special. It still is, and I came in at the right time to save you." John was on the edge. The only thing that really kept him from strangling her throat was the gun attached to her left hip.   
"Save me?" Mary stepped towards him.  
"Yes. I was there when you were at your worst. I was there when you were on the edge of killing yourself because you couldn't cope being alone anymore. I've given you everything you needed and you fell in love again." John shook his head while his eyes dropped to the floor. He knew she was right, but that was not the point.   
"Don't try to twist this. Don't pretend that you've done me a favor here when you've done nothing but destroying my life." She shrugged her shoulders.  
"Depends on what angle you want to look at it. You convinced I destroyed your life? Fine. I take the blame. But button line is, I didn't have much choice. I was given a job, and I tried to do the job but started caring about you. I've never when in with the intention to hurt you. And yes I had to lie, that was part of the job. But I swear, I never wanted to end like this." John looked at her and couldn't figure out if she was being sincere. She was a professional after all with all kinds of skills and tricks and mind games.  
"Well, too bad. You should have thought about this before you decided to become an assassin and join that crazy organization." Mary huffed incredulously.   
"And You think that was a choice? Becoming an assassin? You say it like I woke up one day and decided to become this. People don't start killing people for a living. It happens to them." John was clutching his arms in front of his chest.  
"How can I know. Apparently, I don't know anything about you, or how you became that way, so forgive me if I don't sympathize with your way of living." He said more ironically.   
"Fair enough. But right now it's not really about you and me, as much as I try to reason with you and try to explain myself, our relationship is not the most important thing right now." John giggled again.  
"Not to me anyways. For all I know, I am done on this topic as much as I am done with you." She nodded. Her whole body was composed as she stood gracefully in the middle of the room.   
"There are things that Victor has planned that you don't know about, that the whole organization doesn't know about and I have a feeling, it also has to do with Sherlock." By the mention of his name, John's inner alarm was turned back on again and he felt his heart through his chest. He had to make sure now and then, that it was still beating, that this whole thing was not a weird dream he just couldn't wake up from.   
"What do you mean?" Finally, Mary was stepping closer to John, her eyes more serious than ever.  
"They used a form of the method, back when I was starting. Moriarty and Victor. A form of method which ensures that members are submissive to any demands that come from Victor. To Victor, it's all about controlling the mind, and to control a mind like Sherlock's has been one of Victors greatest aims." John swallowed.  
"What do you exactly mean by the method? Some sort of drug?" Mary's eyes faded to the room.  
"I don't know. I just heard whispers all these years that Moriarty was in a possession of something very powerful. Thinking about it know, it makes sense. How do you secure your power in the midst of a number of criminals? How do you ensure they will be loyal to you?"  
John's head was on fire.   
"Why would you tell me this? You are a member of this organization. You've been working for them. Killed how many people to secure your own power. Why should I believe anything that comes out of your mouth?" Mary shrugged her shoulders again.  
" You don't have to. I guess you can choose if you want to believe me or not. All I can say is, that I have my own motivations on why I am telling you this. I care about you and as much as you don't want to hear it, I still love you and I want us to work this through. I know that you also care about Sherlock. So this is me trying to prove to you that I am being sincere, that you can trust me..." John was more than confused. How would he ever be able to trust her again?  
"I really don't know what to say to that. I am exhausted. I never chose this life where my wife turns out to be an assassin and work for the most criminal organization in Britain." She stayed silent, just looking at him, while John was looking at her. Thinking. Taking a long pause.  
"You were at the pool. Weren't you. The night Moriarty tried to blow us up. You were one of his snipers on the balcony. As much as you were the one who extracted that camera from baker street" It wasn't really a question. John knew the answer and everything seemed to make sense now. Mary was playing with him. Whatever she tried to do, John was convinced she wasn't being sincere at all. Mindgames. After all, she was a terrific actress.   
" Yeah, I was. I was curious. I wanted to take a glimpse of the man who kept the world's biggest criminal mastermind so busy. The obsession he was operating with was quite staggering and might I admit, quite annoying." John's brain was working now. She was there all along. She saw them together.   
"Annoying? You were annoyed by Sherlock. He was always in your way." He concluded while She grinned.  
"The moment Moriarty's obsession became evident, our relationship shifted. All the attention was on Sherlock. Destroying him, owning him, wanting him. Everything fell together and it was like he did not pay attention to any of us anymore. All of a sudden everything was just about Sherlock. Like it always has. You, Moriarty, Victor. You all seem to bend over backward for this arrogant sod. Like he's the most precious person in the world. I never could understand the hold he has on people, being so rude to them most of the time. So I shot him. I shot him because I wanted to, not because it was part of the plan. Victor would crush me if he would find out who was responsible for his near death. I got lucky." Mary's eyes faded like she recapped the last two years vividly.   
"At least you're being honest now. I was always under the impression that Sherlock tried so hard to make it work between the two of us that he lied in order to shine you in a good light, deflecting the impact this whole near-death experience had on him. You shooting him without even blinking although you exactly knew how this would affect me." For the first time, Mary's hand twitched and she showed some sign of weakness. Even though it was a small sign.  
"Well, I can't lie that I was holding a grudge. I probably still do." A thought crossed John's mind. He was really quick all of a sudden.  
"You loved him. Moriarty. Didn't you? That's why you hate Sherlock so much." Mary's silence was deafening.   
"Clever boy." she just commented.  
"He has been the root problem to everything. Although I sent in your path to distract you from him, I knew very early on that I would never be able to make you love me as much as you love him." John shook his head. Mary continued and waved her hand.  
"You're in denial, but that's okay. You have been for some time now, and I always knew that, so I made peace with it. But the fact remained is that yet again Sherlock came between me and what I wanted. I wanted you. I still do while you never wanted me."   
"I MARRIED YOU" John screamed at her.   
"That doesn't prove anything." She spat.  
"But that all doesn't matter anymore. I told you what I know...." John cut her.  
"Yeah, and now I am more confused. You say one thing and then some. You tell me about this method, that Sherlocks in danger because apparently care about me and him but then you say you hate him for what he apparently did to you. That you liked shooting him. You can't hate and love someone at the same time." John fell on to the couch again. He was confused, tired and overall a shell of a human being.  
"Of course you can," Mary remarked as the door to the room fell open, incoming, Alex who walked towards Mary and himself.  
"Alex, what's going on?" Mary frowned.  
"I am here to take Dr. Watson with me." Mary started to panic a bit.  
"What. Why?" Alex shrugged her shoulders.  
"Bosses orders. He wants to see Dr. Watson." John stood from the couch, willing to go with Alex. Anywhere where he could clear his mind and be away from Mary sounded like a good idea just about now.  
"No. John. Wait. You can't go with her. Please. you are not saved." She pleaded as she grabbed John's wrist pulling him back.  
"Let go of me." He clenched his teeth with a threatening stare. Alex positions herself between them and grabbed John by the wrist, pushing Mary away.  
"You know well enough, that he has no choice." Both women looked at each other while John followed Alex through the door and out of the room.


	11. Tortured Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fasten your seatbelts folks, The confrontation is about to happen, and then some. Sherlock and John are pawns in the game that Victor has designed for them. 
> 
>  
> 
> N: I wasn't sure before I started how long the story was going to be. Now I am more certain, that this is going to be a complex and detailed story of how John and Sherlock are finding their way back to each other. Also, a familiar character from the show is going to make an entrance in the next couple of chapters. Greg and Mycroft's relationship will get more explored as well.

Sherlock was running in circles, then sitting down on the sofa, and up again to walk around the room which seemed to be closing in on him as the minutes were passing away. He tried to get his thoughts under control in the same way he tried to ignore Victor who sat lazily on one of the comfortable looking armchairs with a phone in his hands, typing away.   
"Sit down for christ sakes. You being overdramatic." Victor remarked annoyed and started to turn his focus towards something apparently really interesting on his phone display.   
"I really don't get why you being so difficult William. I'll grant you the wish. John Watson will be free to go after you destroyed him. That won't be that difficult for you. Surely you got enough practice. Just be your arrogant asshole self, and everything will just work out fine." Sherlock turned towards him and stopped in his tracks.  
"You're having a laugh." Victor shook his head slightly while his eyes were still fixed on his phone.  
"Not at all. I'm just trying to put you at ease. This can be over in a couple of minutes if you pull yourself together. If you care about him at all, you will do this quickly and in a convincing manner. I don't think I need to tell you that you have to be convincing, otherwise this whole thing will be pointless." Sherlock sat down at the far end of the sofa and brushed his hands through his hair. He needed to concentrate as opposed to fully lose it. He needed to go through every option and possibility again. There was no point because there was no way out of this. It didn't matter how many times he would go through his mind palace.  
“What exactly do you want me to say to him?” Victor finally turned his face towards Sherlock. He lifted himself from his armchair and sat next down to Sherlock on the sofa.  
“The minute he walks in here your whole demeanor has to change. You can’t break at any moment in time if you do I will execute him in front of your eyes. I want you to tell him that everything he believed in has been a lie. I want you to tell him that you just used him, that he’s a low life, an idiot who doesn’t deserve breathing the same air with someone so extraordinary like you. I want you to tell him that you’ve always been part of the network, that you and Moriarty were working together all along and that this whole thing has been a scheme for the media. I want you to tell him that you despise him and that he disgusts you. I want you to tell him that you love me. You need to sell it to him William, and if you’re not able to do that, he’s going to pay the price for it.” His whole body shook to the core. Victor’s voice was so ice-cold and sharp, it left Sherlock without a doubt that this man would shoot John Watson’s brain out in front of him without flinching. There was no decent fiber in that mans body. Nothing that could be marked as redeemable. Sherlock looked at Victor's eyes back into space. If he really could do this, he needed to get into a different mindset. He really could do with some morphine or cocaine right now, that at least would have made things easier for him.   
“If I do this, and you release him. What will happen next?” His voice was calm but Sherlock seemed to be miles away, trying to implement a different mindset. Someone who was cold, repulsive and didn’t care about anyone. Basically his former self. The Sociopath he pretended to be for all those years.   
“That’s for me to know, and for you to find out. But basically you will become part of the network, and I will able to grant you a life that you could not have imagined in your wildest dreams.” Sherlock didn’t respond as the door to the room slowly opened with Alex stepping in and behind her a lightly irritated Doctor. 

John followed the woman with the black long hair into the room, and his eyes immediately narrowed down to Victor who stood up from the couch he sat on and was about to extend his hand to him. However, John’s eyes manifested towards another body that was sitting with the back to him at the far end of the sofa. Black curls and a long neck. Sherlock didn’t dare to move a single inch but he knew who stood in the room. He closed his eyes and tried to compose his beating heart. He could do this if he just got his feelings under control.   
“Sorry, that took so long, Boss,” Alex commented while Victor was extending his hand towards John who seemed to be more focused on the person that was sitting on the couch. He immediately knew that it had to be Sherlock. He could recognize these curls anywhere. All of a sudden, his breath got caught in his throat and he didn’t know how to respond or to react with Sherlocks back towards them. He hadn’t anticipated seeing him just yet or that Victor actually allowed them to meet. John turned his face into a wide grin that belonged to Victor and shook his hand absently.   
“No problem Alex, you can step outside” he ordered and Alex left the room leaving the three men by themselves. 

Sherlock's eyes shifted and he stood up from the couch, stretching himself up a bit in his new suit and buttoned his suit together. He was already in the acting mode as he turned towards Victor and John.   
“Dr. John Watson may I introduce you to one of our members from the network, William Holmes” Victor’s grin couldn’t grow wider as he opened his arm in a welcoming manner towards Sherlock who stepped from the couch towards the two. John's eyes were not only looking at him, they were looking right through him, straight into his soul, so Sherlock made sure to grin as he walked towards him. The same smug smile Victor always used. John registered what Victor had just said but he couldn't put the picture together just yet. Here he stood, just a few feet away from the man who all roads lead back to. He was the reason John stood right here. He was the reason John basically sacrificed everything for and all he was getting was this smug, disgusting smile. Sherlock knew he had to play this all or nothing. He couldn’t for one second let his mind wander to other places or look at John for too long. He knew his facade would break then. He wouldn’t be able to keep it up. 

Nevertheless, the minute Sherlock’s eyes met John’s he felt that his heart picked up speed. He immediately felt this amazing feeling of warmth, comfort, and serenity that he had missed for such a long time. He hadn’t seen the man for months and now he finally could lay his eyes on him and he looked amazing. His hair had grown that was the first thing that Sherlock could pick up. His eyes had still had this amazing shade of blue, which went so deep, Sherlock always got lost in them. Underneath his eyes, He could make out that John was more than exhausted, he was bearly holding up, but to Sherlock, this man was nothing but absolute perfection. In every sense of the word. 

Just one look at Victor and John was certain that this was not about to go down well. He was definitely looking forward to this.  
“ John. Long time, no see. We’re so pleased you came here.” Sherlock extended his hand, his voice sounded bland and unrecognizable to John. John started laughing a bit at this ridiculous situation. So Sherlock was a member of the network now.   
“What is this?” He stuttered and looked down at the hand that Sherlock was holding out for him. 

Those long, slender hands. He started to let his eyes wander over the tall and lean detective. How he missed seeing him in the flash. That black suit fitted him to a tea and those black curls looked more luscious than ever. John felt his eyes water. Being in the presence of the great detective again was overwhelming and affected John right to the core. Though, it seemed that it wasn’t the great detective that stood in front of him anymore. The light in his eyes wasn’t there, instead, John looked into pools of green eyes that seem to have lost their glow and passion. 

“Just shake my hand. I think it’s time that Victor and I explain some things to you.” Johns blinked his eyes in confusion and was taken aback by the monotony of Sherlock’s voice. That’s not what he usually sounded like. He seemed so different, so changed. Victor smiled and looked at the two-man. Back and Forth. He felt like a director, like a conductor, orchestrating a beautiful piece of melody.   
“Shake his hand Dr. Watson and we’ll be able to proceed.” John squinted his eyes. Sherlock tried to not waver one bit although John’s typical facial expressions took him off guard a little bit. John never seemed to be capable of not showing how he felt by his facial expressions. But he seemed to obey their request and extended his hands towards Sherlock’s. 

The simple touch of their two hands joining was enough for Sherlock to get affected and he started to look away for a second. He couldn’t touch John and at the same time withstand his wondering look. John’s hands were shaken and he knew that Sherlock must have felt that too.   
Sherlock pulled his hand back gracefully and brushed a hand through his hair trying to collect himself again while stepping towards the sofa. Victor Meanwhile went to the decanter to the right and started to pour drinks.  
“Can I offer you some scotch, Dr. Watson. Sherlock and I love to drink together.” This was surreal, awkward and totally confusing at the same time. John stood still following Sherlock’s every move.   
“Okay. What is going on here?. I might not be as smart as the two of you, but this is not what I would have expected when….” Sherlock turned towards him, interrupting him swiftly.   
“What then? You’d expected me to be in some dungeon, chained up and being tortured. You’re little brain is working far too slow to keep up, John. It always has. That’s why you were so stupid coming over here, trying to save me.” Sherlock clenched his teeth trying to be as convincing as possible. He figured it would be best to hold his guard up if he would start right away and don’t waste more time. As Victor said, this could happen quick and easy. There was no need to prolong John’s agony. John, however, felt like he got stabbed with a knife over and over again and with every word that came out of the detective’s mouth. That was definitely not the Sherlock he abandoned all those months ago.  
Victor kept silent and poured him and Sherlock the drink. It probably was best just to watch Sherlock work and not get involved too much. Also, this would be far more entertaining to him if he would not step in.   
“What has happened to you? You’re not acting like yourself. What has he done to you?” John’s shot a look towards Victor who offered Sherlock his drink.  
“Calm down. Don’t get all emotional on me, will you? Victor didn’t do anything to me.” Sherlock took a sip. Inside of him, he felt this huge wave of guilt. Everything in his body rejected what he was doing to his once best friend. Best friend? John is his best friend. Not really. They’ve never been friends. Something else but never friends.  
“He must have something to do with this otherwise you wouldn’t act like that.” John blurted. He felt the frustration washing over him again. But unlike with Mary, he not only felt frustration and betrayal, he also felt that he was about to utterly break down. The break down that you fear when you close of wanting to end your life because you weren’t able to cope with those feelings.  
“Act like what?” Sherlock waved nonchalantly and emptied his glass in one go. That felt good. It definitely helped to pull through.  
“Like how are you acting now. What’s this all about? Is he blackmailing you?” His first guess went right into the bull’s eye. John was not at all stupid. He was just slower than Sherlock.  
“He’s not. Believe it or not, but I’m here on my own account. Always have actually. I’ve been part of Victor’s organization for some time now.” John cleared his throat. He must be lying. John looked at Victor now. He looked way too pleased.  
“I know this must come as a shock, but I just used this whole consulting detective charade to cover up my connection to the organization.” John let him speak without interrupting him.   
“Truth is. I have and always will be part of the organization. I used you to be more credible in my disguise. In fact, since we met, my business with this organization has never been better. People believe that I am the great detective because you made them believe that I am. Your admiration, obsession with me, you’re little, sweet comments on my brilliance. It’s really cute actually.” John tried to zone out. He couldn’t break. Not now, not yet.   
“You want me to believe that?” His voice smaller than he intended. Sherlock shrugged his shoulders.  
“I don’t really care to be honest. I don’t care about you anyways, never did. You’re just a palm in my game. Our game in fact. Victor and I are playing on the same team. So much so, we are partners. In every sense of the word.” Sherlock didn’t know if he could hold this up. His glare wavered the whole time, not being able to withstand John’s eyes for the whole time.   
John looked towards the floor. His hands clenching into fists. His body shook uncontrollably. So he has lost his wife and now he lost his best friend too. To Victor’s and Sherlock’s surprise, John walked straight to the decanter, pouring himself a large glass of scotch and starting to down it. Like actually down the whole thing. Victor chuckled next to Sherlock, holding his laughter while Sherlock felt like he got punched in the face over and over again.  
“You’re welcome, Dr. Watson. It’s not like I didn’t offer.” Victor turned and draped himself on the sofa. The liquor felt good traveling down his throat. He felt a bit lightheaded but he really didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care about himself or what would happen to him.  
“So I came here for nothing. You’ve never been in real danger ever because you and this son of a bitch are working together. You’ve been on the same team since we met and all of this has been a great big lie. Sherlock Holmes the great consulting detective never existed.” Sherlock nodded again avoiding John’s stare.  
“And why then aren’t you able to look me in the eye and tell me that?” John rested his glass on the decanter, brushing his grey blonde hair from his forehead. Sherlock’s gaze dropped to the floor for a second and then looked up at the smaller man.   
“You really want to torture yourself like that. You want to tell it to your face, that means absolutely nothing to me.” John tried to see any flinch on Sherlock’s face. Anything that could indicate that he was lying, but he didn’t see anything. Just a cold mask looking back at him. A mask?

“Yes. Tell me the truth.” Sherlock signed. This was getting more and more difficult. He felt his heart sinking and his body reacting in a way that he did not anticipate. John was challenging him. Pushing him too hard. Victor, on the other hand, was quite content with how things were going. Sherlock stepped towards him, invading his personal space, never leaving his eyes and tried as much as possible not to shake.   
“I used you, okay. I needed an idiot like you to sell my story about the great detective. You never meant anything to me. We never were friends, because I never was on the side of the angels. The game I was playing with Moriarty was orchestrated for the media, for Britain. I was the perfect cover for the organization.” John all of a sudden slapped Sherlock across the face, so his face was flying to the side. How many more slaps were Sherlock’s cheeks able to endure? Victor giggled at that and saw the anger that was finally spilling over in John’s eyes.  
“STOP LYING” He screamed at him and pulled Sherlock by his lapels and pressed him to the wall in a swift move. Sherlock’s eyes started to water immediately. It felt better this way. John getting angry and wanting to hurt him physically. Sherlock deserved it. He deserved everything that John was about to do to him.   
“No. Please. Dr. Watson. No Violence. It’s really not necessary to get all hung up about this.” John blacked out Victor’s voice in the background. All he could see was this man who he thought was the most brilliant man he has ever met become this person that he didn’t recognize at all. Another stranger added to his already fucked up life. Sherlock was crumbling slightly. His body shook and his heartbeat was out of control. John could feel that too. Both starting deep into each other's eyes and John knew that Sherlock’s wall was cracking.  
“I know you. As much as I hate you sometimes with your stupid antics, I know you. I can feel you struggling. So either he’s blackmailing you, forcing you to do this or you’ve not been the man I thought you’d be.” Sherlock was flinching again, struggling to keep his eyes open.  
“The latter is the correct answer.” His eyes were watering more and more. John kept a steady hold on Sherlock and feeling his body shutting down. He was just too exhausted. His eyes narrowing down to Sherlock’s lips.   
“What did I do to deserve you? That you’re doing everything in your power to save me. I know you’re lying and I can see it in your eyes. You don’t have to save me anymore Sherlock. I will take care of myself.” He said with a soft smile and pulled away from Sherlock’s collar. The detective was shocked. He looked incredulous at John. He totally broke his guard, his mask. There was no clever comeback, nothing Sherlock left saying then to stare at the man who was so brave and loyal. He never felt at any moment how hard he’d actually fallen for this man. 

“Enough. This son of a bitch needs to be taught a lesson.” Victor shouted at the both of them. He pulled a gun from behind his back pointing it towards The Soldier while Sherlock looked frightened between John and Victor.  
“No. No. What are u doing? That wasn’t part of the plan.” John blinked and a smiled faded onto his lips again. Sherlock was way too transparent. It was a lie. Somehow Victor threatened Sherlock to do this.   
“So I am right, am I? You doing all this to save me.” Sherlock ran across the room, knowing Victor wasn’t going to shoot him and took Victor by the Collar and looked him in the eyes. He looked terrified, desperate.  
“Please Victor. I am loyal to you. Just let him be. I am telling the truth.” Victor shook his head in disbelief.  
“Seriously William? You look desperate and pathetic. You just can’t stop loving him. Selfish I would call that. Jeopardizing the life of the one person you love just because you’re not able to break his heart.” Sherlock shook his head, tears falling down his cheeks.  
“No. No. I don't. Please. I do everything. I do everything you ask of me.” John could not believe his ears. Sherlock loved him so much that he would do everything just to save his life.   
“Everything really William. I asked you to do one simple thing and you could not even do that. How are you able to do anything I am asking you?” John looked confused.   
“So you want me out of the picture. That's your plan.” John cut in while Victor nodded lightly.  
“Pretty much, Doctor. All I wanted was William’s allegiance, but now I have to take it. I did not want to let it come to that, but it seems that Sherlock is not able to take directions.” Sherlock shook his head vehemently as Victor’s gun was holding the trigger, the gun still pointing in John's direction. Victor was eager to get finally rid of the only other person that held that kind of power over Sherlock Holmes.


	12. Forms of Method

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor has an unexpected reaction to the confrontation with John Watson. He comes to the realization that he has to reach other means to ensure Sherlock's loyalty.

John was looking right into the barrel of the gun as Victor stepped closer towards him brushing the gun onto John's forehead.   
“No please. Victor. Let me make this right!” Sherlock's voice broke as John was paralyzed with fear. He knew that this outcome had always been a possibility, that he could face death in order to save Sherlock. Hereby though, Sherlock wasn't saved at all, even if John would die for his sake, Sherlock would still be under the order of Victor. Victor would never let Sherlock go.   
“It's okay Sherlock. I'm okay. No need for you to get hurt as well.” John ensured, still hearing his heart beating through his teeth. He didn't want to give Victor the satisfaction of showing that he was scared.   
“Exactly. Such a clever boy, Dr. Watson. No need for you to get hurt William. Dr. Watson was prepared for his destiny when he decided to come here.” Sherlock shook his head, positioning himself between John and Victor with the gun still lying on John's forehead. Sherlock was in panic mode. One slip of that finger and John's brain would splash all over that wall.   
“William. Listen. I know you love him, but this does not have to end with you getting hurt as well. I brought him here to ensure your loyalty to me, but you decided to just do the opposite.” Victor pulled back so there was some space between the gun and John again. Sherlock made an effort to push himself in front of John trying to get Victors attention. His eyes wide, his hands clasped together in an attempt to beg Victor to let it go.  
“I'm still willing to do that Victor. I beg you, please, just let him go and we can continue where we left off.” His lips said one thing his eyes said another. 

John now was pushing past Sherlock. He was done being his damsel in distress. He was done of Sherlock sacrificing himself over and over again for his sake. He came here because he wanted to save him because he thought he owed him one, but actually, it was never about that. It was about what John truly wanted to do because he felt that he couldn't live a life where Sherlock Homles wasn't around, where he wasn't part of John's life. He needed him, as much as Sherlock seemed to need John. They were depended on each other and John realized that while being here. Everything had changed in such a short space amount of time. His feelings changed or grew in that sense. A feeling that he probably tried to suppress for such a long time. 

“No. I won't leave you here with him, Sherlock. Either we go together or we stay together.” Sherlock looked at him in disbelief. What was John doing? Did he really have a death wish? He tried his best here to convince Victor that he was going to accept the idea of him staying at the network if John was able to leave as a free man.   
“Exactly and I am Santa Clause. No one is going anywhere without my consent. And it's definitely not going to be William. Listen to me, Dr. Watson. I have a very simple policy which dictates getting rid of people who stand in the way of me achieving my goals. One of them involves Sherlock. And you’re the reason he's holding back. You've always been the very reason. The obstacle. And if I'm getting rid of you now, there's nothing that will hold William back anymore in becoming a true member of this organization and the only man at my side” John looked Victor dead in the eyes.  
"Don't you say. And you really believe that if you shoot me, Sherlock is just going to hold his end of the deal? And I thought you were supposed to be a genius. If you kill me, you've got nothing to blackmail him with. Nothing you hold against him that could make him dance." John said with a light triumphant smile.   
"Well, there's always his brother....and I got my methods. Don't worry Dr. Watson. There are plenty of things that I got up my sleeve. I believe you're just underestimating me which is quite insulting I might add, after everything you've seen that I am capable of doing." John's eyes widened again. Methods? So Mary has been telling the truth.  
"What kind of methods are we talking about." Victor didn't reply, took a bit of a pause, looking at Sherlock who stood beside John.  
"That's none of your business Dr. Watson. And again, you're not in a position to question me or making demands of any sorts. I am the one holding a gun to your head, so let's not forget who is in charge here, shall we?". Sherlock breathed heavy. He had to diffuse this situation promptly or Victor would shoot him, the way John was riling him up.  
"Victor, please. Don't listen to him. listen to me. You let him go and I am going to stay with you like you've planned. I won't be going back to my old life, but just put the gun down so we can sort this out...." Sherlock pleaded and pleaded. 

The sheer thought that at any moment John could be shot right in front of him, made Sherlock not want to live anymore as well. If Victor really was going to pull that trigger, Sherlock would find a way to follow John wherever he was going. Even into death, because he didn't want to live in a world where John Watson was no more. How could he? He would do anything for that man. He knew that this was his greatest weakness. It has always been that way since the very beginning when he first laid eyes on the soldier at the laboratory. He really felt and realized that there was something special about him, when they were both at the pool facing Moriarty, and he knew it for sure when John was standing at the altar with mary. His love for John was his greatest weakness.

"I so want to believe you, William. I want to believe that you're sincere, but you're not. Even I have to face the truth, because even if I let him go and you obey me every wish, that you never truly be mine. Your heart will never be in it. In regards to the organization or myself. Am I right?" Sherlock didn't know what to respond to that. He saw Victor's hand shaking a little, the slight flinch that indicated that he was more deciding to lower the gun. John held his breath a little as Victor was turning towards Sherlock and lowering his gun. Sherlock kept silent which was a louder answer then Victor really wanted.   
"Well, then I guess it doesn't really matter what I do to him, does it? because it won't change how you feel." Victor was more talking to himself now and turned towards the decanter putting his gun away. Sherlock's relief was overwhelming. He looked towards John and both of them had a comforting smile on their face. Even though they didn't say anything to each other, it was clear what they meant. They wanted to ensure the other if they were okay. Sherlock had this overwhelming urge just to pull John into his arms, cover his face with his hands to see that he was really okay and well.   
"I am really disappointed, William, because I thought this would be enough to change how you feel. I thought to see me, seeing what I have created, the power I have would be attraction enough for you to want to be truly part of my world. But as I see you rather take the ordinary and the boring over the extraordinary and the exciting." Sherlock huffed while he glanced back from John at Victor.  
"What do you want me to say. I expected you to know that all along. As you said so many times, you've been observing me for more than three years." Victor nodded, preparing himself another drink.  
"Indeed. I know you were invested in your pressure points, but that really exceeded my expectations. I knew you would do anything to save him, kill yourself if it would come to rescuing your precious Doctor, but seeing it now with my own eyes, experiencing what it's like to feel that way about someone. I don't know. It makes me feel quite nostalgic thinking back to our days in college." John felt like he wasn't really in the room. The way Victor was talking about their relationship, it made John feeling awkward and uncomfortable. It was like Victor had no right to talk in that way because he didn't know them. Though, he did. He did know both of them way too well.  
"You can't even compare the two. I was a different person back then. I had no idea what love was" That was one punch right in Victors face which he tried to brush off with a smile.   
"If you say so then" Victor finished his drink, grabbed his phone and started to type something. Sherlock and John meanwhile tried to communicate with their eyes. What would be the best possible thing to do right now. There wasn't any chance of escaping.   
"Well. I guess our little meeting has come to an end gentleman with no satisfying results I might add, and unfortunately for you, I have to, therefore, reach for other means to execute my plan." Sherlock and John both looked in utter confusion. Victor pocketed his phone and was walking past the two off them to the door.  
"What is happening? Where are you going" Sherlock was now more concerned than before? Victor was acting in an unusual way which made the whole situation more dangerous somehow. It couldn't be a good sign if Victor left the two alone with each other. He must be planning something and whatever it was, it wasn't going to end well.   
"You'll excuse me, gentleman. As I mentioned to you before William, I thought we could make this easy and simple but as I have to accept now, you two want to make it more difficult which means it will be infinitely more painful for you. Don't say I didn't warn you." He ended with a wide grin and left the room, leaving Sherlock and John by themselves.


	13. Lost Boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greg Lestrade is convinced he has got a lead on Sherlock's whereabouts. Mycroft reveals further insight into Victor and Sherlock's relationship. 
> 
> N: Greg and Mycroft have a connection, even if Mycroft doesn't know it yet.

Mycroft could never understand how Sherlock was able to enjoy being in this flat. It was tiny, dark and not suitable for a Holmes brother. Granted, Mycroft’s mansion was a bit too spacious for one person but he liked it that way. He always liked being by himself anyways. He didn’t want to waste his time on ordinary people. Still, it would have been nice to have someone there to support him in this time of need. In this time where the only person he cared about was ripped away from him. His brother was everything to Mycroft, even if he had trouble showing that.   
Mycroft sat in the flat in Baker-street on Sherlock’s black chair. For days on end they were trying everything to locate John with the tracker system, but nothing came back. They hit a dead-end again and Mycroft seemed to lose any hope of finding the two. Moreover, he was concerned, because Mary didn’t respond either. Something must have gone really wrong, and he partly blamed himself for it. Mycroft was woken from his deep thoughts, by a shuffling that was coming up the stairs. He turned towards the door and was met by the Detective Inspector.   
“We believe we found something.” He opened and seemed to be more than out of breath. He must have been rushing here in an attempt to talk to Mycroft in person. He signed. Were people incapable of using phones? He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts for once.   
“And what do you believe you found Scotland Yard?” He said more mockingly than intended. Greg was hesitant to approach the older Holmes brother but decided he had to face him at one point, so he made his way an attempt to sit on the other chair opposite from Mycroft. John’s chair.   
“What do you know about Victor Trevor?” Mycroft’s breath caught in his throat upon hearing that name escape Lestrade’s tongue. He hasn’t heard that name in a long time and he was happy about that. He didn’t really connect any good memories towards that name.  
“Who wants to know?” Greg was stern, trying to read Mycroft’s expressions, but there was nothing.  
“We did some digging, well actually MI5 and Scotland Yard together. The records we have on him, which holds very little information, but could be a possible connection to Sherlock’s kidnapper.” Mycroft grinned.   
“So you think, that he’s part of Moriarty’s spider web?” Greg seemed eager.  
“Yeah, it could be. We’ve gone through every person of interest, the parts of the web that Sherlock already got rid of, and any person that could have been involved in building up that network again. With the assumption that this whole thing is a far more personal attack on Sherlock, that it had to be someone who has a history with him, and the little to no information on Mr. Trevor after he graduated from college, he would be the perfect candidate to be involved in this. Maybe it’s even greater than we've expected. Maybe he was Moriarty’s right-hand man, maybe…” Greg was talking at speed. Hundered miles per minute just to get his point across, but Mycroft cut him.   
“Don’t be daft. He would never be capable of all that if we talk about the same man. It’s nice that you did your homework, but try to keep track here, Detective Inspector. If he would have been involved with Moriarty all along, I would have known about it, trust me” Greg looked down for a second in frustration.   
“With all due Respect, Mr. Holmes, I believe, we believe, that it’s something worth looking into. We could be wrong, we could be right,….but at this point in time, we’ve hit a dead-end. If we can’t locate John or Mary, this whole thing could take far longer then we’ve anticipated. For all, we know they could already be dead.”   
“MY BROTHER IS NOT DEAD” Mycroft jumped from his seat. His anger rising at the annoying, overeager, idiotic Detective Inspector, who tried to kept silent at Mycroft’s outburst. At the same time though, he didn’t want to leave without getting any further. He was convinced that Victor Trevor was a lead in this case. Mycroft felt a bit embarrassed, he didn’t want to shout like that but this thing really pushed him to his limits. He couldn’t deal any longer. Not without Sherlock.   
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you, but I really think that there’s something there, and you don’t have to believe me, but it would be worth a try.” Mycroft sat back in the chair, closing his eyes for a second and then opening them again.  
“What do you want to know?” Greg’s signed with a bit of relief, but he could immediately see the sadness in his eyes.   
“Anything you can share, to be honest. Who is he and what is his connection to Sherlock?”  
Mycroft took a pause, let his eyes wander through the room.  
“ I know Victor Trevor very well. So well, that I know he would never hurt my brother. My brother never really made any friends in school or in college. But I can remember the moment he met Victor everything changed. Victor was exactly the person my brother always wanted to be around. Smart, incredibly handsome, Funny, Charming, and manipulative. Someone who he can talk to on eye level. Someone who he can open up to.” Greg inched up his body. He was curious but he had a feeling that it was difficult for Mycroft to go back to these memories.   
“and he did?” Mycroft nodded.   
“Yes. Unfortunately. He did. And Victor used that to his advantage. I've never seen a person have more control over my brother than Victor Trevor. He not only invaded Sherlock’s mind but also changed my brother for the worse. He became an absolute lunatic, started taking drugs and what not. They were spending almost every day together. They were inseparable” Greg lowered his head.   
“Was Victor Sherlock's first love?” Mycroft took a moment.  
“I don't know, to be honest. I believe my brother never really loved anyone until John Watson entered his life.” Greg looked up. All of a sudden he had so many questions about the man he thought was absolutely incapable of any romantic entanglements.   
“Are you sure?” Mycroft wanted to be right about this.   
“Yes. I think so. Even in his relationship to Trevor, he never expressed in any way that he felt love towards him. Well. He certainly enjoyed Victors company but at one point it became all too much for him.”   
“Too much?” Mycroft looked into space, thinking.   
“Yeah. Victor wanted more and my brother wasn’t ready for that. They were still so young, in their early 20s.” Greg grinned slightly trying to imagine Sherlock as a college kid.  
“What did Victor want?” Mycroft looked up.  
“He wanted to marry my brother. Even asked me for advice.” Greg’s eyes got bigger.  
“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. Sherlock was never one for commitment. And marriage, wow.”   
“I know. Victor wanted too much too soon. He was the perfect gentleman, but unfortunately too unhinged. It always felt to me like he wanted to own Sherlock. Like he wanted to control him. That's what I told Sherlock as well, and although he seemed to agree, I think in the end it was difficult for him to break it off.”   
“Don't you think he might have been in love with Victor in the end?”   
“I don't think so, of course, I can not speak for my brother but, it didn’t feel like he cared enough for Victor. Though, as I experienced Victor was the first person who was invited to my parents Christmas dinner. The first person Sherlock introduced to my parents. The first person he actually became somewhat attached to.” Greg huffed. Was Victor also the first guy Sherlock slept with? The first guy he had feelings for? He was curious about the man He had known for more than eight years now.  
“So they have quite the history together.” Mycroft looked down but nodded. Greg could immediately see that Mycroft despised Victor Trevor.   
“How long were they together for?” The question that was nagging on his mind for quite a while.  
“almost three years. On and off. Basically the whole of his college years.” Greg jaw began to drop. Three full years.   
“That's a long time.”   
“Indeed. As I said my brother and him formed quite a bond. After Victor proposed, Sherlock was in a bad state. I think he never wanted to end the relationship but Victors eagerness just became a problem. My brother is not someone you can push too hard, otherwise, he’s just going to shut himself off completely.” Greg nodded. He knew Sherlock and he could exactly imagine that.  
“My mother of course was devastated when she heard about the breakup. She already had everything planned. Victor was already her son in law would it have gone her way. I guess my parents were just so happy to finally have one of their sons to be romantically engaged and there would actually be a chance for marriage and children and all that normal, boring and ordinary stuff.” Greg grinned. He really could not imagine Sherlock getting married and having a normal ordinary life. He was way to exceptional for that.   
“No, that’s not Sherlock.” Pain flashed over Mycroft’s face. Greg understood.  
“I’m sorry Mr. Holmes. I'm being completely insensitive. I just wanted to…” Mycroft waved his hand.  
“No, That’s fine. It’s good that you know about it.” Greg nodded, looking up at Mycroft with soft eyes.  
“Everyone’s got a past. I just never thought that Sherlock was able to be that way with anyone, to feel that way about anyone.”   
“He feels that way about John.” Mycroft announced yet again, burying his head in his hands.


	14. The Elephant In The Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John talk about their upcoming battle against Victor Trevor and feelings are being uncovered. But how long can they continue ignoring the elephant in the room?
> 
> N: So sorry for the delay on this chapter. Life got in the way as usual. I try to follow up the next chapters soon. Sherlock's lid on his feelings is wide open at this point in the story!

It was silent for the first couple of minutes. John has fallen onto the couch not looking in Sherlock’s direction while Sherlock was still standing. Both didn't really know what to say, both confused about what Victor would be planning.   
“Stop contemplating and stop beating yourself up. I know you blame yourself but I made that decision myself.” Sherlock huffed slightly because he couldn’t understand John’s motivations. He was a father for Christ sakes. He had a little daughter.  
“You made a stupid mistake. You should never have come here. Victor is a nutcase and now you’re involved, I am not able to protect you here.” Now it was John’s turn to huff and he had to giggle to himself sarcastically.  
“You don’t need to protect me. When are you going to get that through your thick brain? I am not as vulnerable as you might think. I was an army soldier for crying out loud. I know how to defend myself.”   
Sherlock just shook his head.  
“Not from him. You don’t know Victor. He’s dangerous and delusional, and those two things make a terrifying combination.” He stated. John saw that Sherlock was close to the edge, he never saw him that agitated, that scared, that lost ever. Maybe he was right. Maybe John was underestimating Mr. Trevor.  
“Tell me then. What are we up against? You and Victor seem to go way back, don’t you? So tell me about him. What is your connection to him?”  
Too many questions, too soon. Sherlock wasn’t really prepared to have a play by play with John about his ex-boyfriend.   
“You’re sure you want to know?” He said before he could think about it.  
“What is that suppose to mean?” John was looking up and his body started to tense. From what Victor told him, he knew, that Sherlock and Victor have been involved with each other in the past. He really didn’t want to presume, but the most logical consequence he could read from the recent developments was that Victor and Sherlock have been in a romantic relationship in the past and John’s stomach turned just by the thought of that.  
“I, I don’t know” Sherlock spat a bit more aggressively than he intended and fell onto the couch next to John. John never saw the detective so befuddled. He was a mess. It was like someone had opened a lid on his emotions, and now all those feelings were just pouring out of him.   
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” John made clear. He tried to calm him down. Whatever went down between Victor and Sherlock. The whole thing seemed to really tear Sherlock apart and John didn’t want to make it more difficult than it already was.   
“I want to, it’s just….” Sherlock took a pause, brushing his hands through his curls in a frustrating manner.  
“I don’t want you to think any different of me. I was and can be a completely different person around him.” John frowned a bit. He didn’t really understand what Sherlock meant by that.  
“I try to understand Sherlock but,…I really don’t. I mean, what sort of relationship do you have or had with him. Did you love him?” Sherlock squinted his eyes together. The L word. Could he never escape this freaking word?   
“I don’t know.” John jumped up from the couch. He got more frustrated as the conversation went on. This was not how he imagined it would go. All of a sudden, he had to not only deal with Victor being apparently a very jealous ex-boyfriend but also with Sherlock’s very mixed feelings towards him.   
“Ok. I can’t do this. Really, Sherlock? I came here to get you out of here, and not deal with some lover’s quarrel. You want to tell me now that you actually have feelings for this maniac who’s trying to control you,….well not even trying to,…apparently he’s already controlling you and you don’t even realize it. If you two are so happy together then for what reason am I here for? For what reason did I abandon my daughter in order to save the man I thought was worth sacrificing my life for.” John was enraged as water spilled uncontrollably into his eyes. He was furious. Sherlock could slap himself for confusing him like that.  
“John. Please. Stop it. I didn’t mean it like that.” Sherlock was also standing now, holding out his hands.   
“ Then what the fuck did you mean? It sounded very much like you do have feelings for him after all?” He blinked the tears away that were now falling down his cheeks. John couldn’t care less about looking weak or too emotional. He was fucking done with the world.  
“I did once. That’s the truth. But I don’t anymore. For a long time now to be honest. I’m sorry for confusing you, I misspoke. I know that I don’t have feelings for him whatsoever. He’s just really talented in pushing my buttons because he knows how to manipulate me. He knows how to manipulate anyone if he requires enough data. Victor is a Master Manipulator. Better than myself actually. Better then Moriarty. He knows exactly what he’s doing at any point in time. Everything is deliberate.” John brushed his tears away but they just continued to come down. Sherlock desperate now to embrace him, calm him down and ensure him that everything would be okay in the end.  
“I ask again. What was your connection to Victor Trevor? I need to know!” He signed. He knew John wouldn’t let it go and neither should he. They were together in this now. Together against a maniac. Sherlock took a long breath and looked into those amazing blues of John’s.  
“We met in college. During fresher’s week actually. As you can imagine, I was reluctant going to college in the first place. I never got on with my peers, especially with people from the same age. They all seemed way too stupid, just focusing on getting drunk the next chance they got. I was never interested in any of that, so I was quite content being by myself most of the time, just staying in my room studying. But that first week I met Victor, I instantly knew that he was different to anyone I’ve ever met. We seem to have the same interests, loved science and deducing all sorts of things just by looking at people. He was as clever as myself, maybe even as clever as Mycroft and I felt how my attraction grew towards him. We ended up doing a line of cocaine one night in my room. We were off our heads most of the time, but that night everything seemed to make sense for me. I always knew that I was attracted to men and Victor confirmed that fact. He knew exactly how to play me. We got involved with each other very fast from that night on and spend almost every day together. There were lots of ups and downs in the three years of our college time together, but one night during sophomore year things turned for the worst and it was Mycroft who actually saved me. He never talked about it again, but I was almost dying from an overdose that Victor had prepared for me. Mycroft found me in time while Victor just left me there. After that night I had promised myself to never go back to him again, but I failed time and time again. We got back together and in the end, it was Mycroft’s intervention and his doing that made Victor vanish before he had the chance to graduate. I never looked back after he left. I didn’t want to. I just wanted to shut myself off from any emotional entanglements. I was convinced that Mycroft was right, that sentiment is really a defect found on the losing side. I tried to hold that up for as long as I can remember until I met you…” Sherlock’s eyes shifted slightly like he couldn't really hold John’s gaze. John was watching him intensely.   
“When I met you, everything started to change and although Mycroft was rightfully skeptic, in the beginning, he has seen how good you actually are for me. I never blamed my brother for being concerned about me after everything that went down with Victor. Although I hate it, Mycroft is always trying to protect me and I care about him deeply. I can’t seem to shake the feeling this whole time how he must feel right now…” John’s eyes grew soft, reaching out and taking one of Sherlock’s hands in his own.  
“He’s your brother. It’s completely understandable that he tries to protect you from all the bad that has happened to you because of Victor” Sherlock’s gaze was manifested in John’s soft eyes. He felt the warm touch of his hand on his and he could have just melted into that touch straight away.  
“I know that and he’s got a point. Victor brought me nothing but trouble and pain. He’s a maniac and he’s convinced of being the only one who can give me what I need.” Sherlock rolled his eyes by just thinking about Victors pathetic attempts to seduce him. Well, in most of those attempts Sherlock ended up panting underneath Victor trying to suppress his moans.   
“And what do you need?” John was still looking at him very intensely but his tone of voice had changed. Sherlock felt his tummy churning but for a whole other reason. He felt John’s hand softly stroking Sherlock’s now. Was he trying to calm him down? John’s voice was all of a sudden not only very warm but in a way raspy. Sherlock forgot to breathe there for a second.  
“I. I don't know really. I guess I just need you to be safe. I want you to leave this place, you don’t belong here! I want us to be back at 221B. I mean, you return back to Charlotte and Mary. I just want everyone that I care about to be safe and not in danger because of me.” John looked down at the mention of Mary. Sherlock had obviously no idea of the recent developments. He had no idea that there was not much left of the love that John had for Mary.   
“Sherlock, I think you should know and this will come as a bit of a shock. Mary will not be part of my life anymore. During this whole journey, Mary has turned out to be working for the network, for Victor. She always has actually. She was there on the night Moriarty tried to blow us up at the swimming pool. She was one of his snipers.” However, John had anticipated Sherlock’s reaction. He would not have anticipated him bursting out into a long laughter. Sherlock was trying to control himself, but he couldn’t. This whole thing just seemed to be getting ridiculous right now.  
“I don’t know what to say at this point.” John seemed confused at first but then slowly had to join in the laughter. Sherlock was right. The situation was really ridiculous. Surreal even. “I know, I know. I understand the lunacy of this whole thing, but maybe the joke is on me. I should have left her the minute she shot you and it was revealed who she really was. Turns out, Moriarty sends her to distract me, to drive a wedge between us and separate us. She claims she still loves me, but I don’t believe a word she says neither would I even consider of going back to the way things were. The minute I get out of here, if I ever will, I’ll prepare the divorce papers and try my best to get custody of Charlotte.” Sherlock nodded, trying to recap everything in his mind palace. Everything he had on Mary Morstan, and he was still contemplating how she was able to fool him.   
“I should have seen it coming. I should have deduced it before she was able to hurt you like that. I know how much you loved her.” John shook his head vehemently.  
“Don’t bother. She’s not worth it. I guess, she’s just very good at her job.” John concluded with Sherlock still really feeling the little strokes that John send down his hand. It was calming and comforting and just the most subtle of touches but yet so powerful. Sherlock tried desperately to keep his heart rate intact but John didn’t really make it that easy for him being all understanding, soft and just overall the man who he had missed so much over the last few months.  
They could address the elephant in the room, but John was still very much reluctant to open that can of worms. He wasn’t sure if the time was right. Everything about Sherlock and his relationship seemed to be about the right timing. The timing always seemed to be off with the two of them. The timing to actually talk about them and what it all actually meant that John was here wanting to sacrifice himself for him, as well as Sherlock, has done so many times for John. Was that just normal between best friends? No, it wasn’t and Victor knew. Victor blatantly spat out the love that Sherlock had for him, and John acknowledges that. Of course, he did. Everyone seemed to know how Sherlock felt about him. Mycroft had told him right in his face that his brother was undeniably in love with him. So what was supposed to happen now? Should he just ignore all of that again? Go on and focus on their current predicament, which would really be beneficial cause he actually didn’t know how long he was going to stay alive.  
“Sherlock, there is a good chance that Victor is not going to let me walk free, and if that happens I want you to know that I am okay with that. As he said as well, I knew what I signed up for coming here. I don't want you to blame yourself if he decides to finish me off because that is what he really wants to do.” Sherlock pulled his hand back in a swift motion, his eyes wide.  
“No, no way. I won’t let that happen, I..” John cut in and took Sherlocks face in his hands, pulling him back.   
“Listen to me. I don’t want you to fight this. If he decides to do that, there is nothing that we can do to stop him.” Sherlock just looked at John. He would never be able to forgive himself. John was really the bravest and most loyal man he'd ever known.   
“Yes. It’s for me to try to kill myself too. If he kills you, I am going to kill myself too. Don’t expect me to draw another breath in a world where John Watson is no longer alive.” John's eyes were wide. This man and his stupid ideas, but at the same time he had that warm feeling again. That tingle in his tummy, that funny feeling.   
“You stupid man. Why would you ever consider killing yourself?”   
“because Victor is right on one thing. I can’t stop caring for you and I never will, not even in death.”


	15. The Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So life happened again. Apologies for the delay in this story. Life seems to always get in the way, but I am still very much determined to continue the story as it seems to open up new avenues as I go along. It's a shorter chapter this time around but does delve further into the complex relationship between Sherlock and John. 
> 
> At this point in the story, Sherlock is very much the driving force in trying to fix their current predicament, but one should never underestimate John Watson.

John stopped breathing for a second. Sherlock was just looking at him, forgetting to blink. He didn't want this moment to pass, because as much as he tried to ignore it, John was right. Victor was just buying them some time. He was eager to get rid of John, nevermind the blackmail. He would happily kill John in front of him just to prove a point. Sherlock was wondering if time had stopped because it felt like it was. He didn't want to confess what he literally just did. He said what John already knew. He would gladly die for John as he has proven so many times in the past. Moreover, he would go as far as take his own life if would get killed because of him.   
They both just stared at each other, John's hands still encircling Sherlock's face."I can't stop caring for you and I never will, not even in death." those words were burning through John's skull. He knew what that meant and what Sherlock was really capable to do. He was overwhelmed by the sheer love this man had for him.   
"I can't do this." John's voice broke a little as he pulled his hands from Sherlock's face and stood from the sofa, Sherlock's gaze falling as a consequence. He kept silent because he couldn't believe that he just said that. He didn't want to make it more complicated than it already was. John brushing his hands through his grey-blonde hair. It wasn't frustration that he felt, it was desire. Desire that overwhelmed him and that completely surprised him. It wasn't the right time, the right moment. He turned towards the taller man, who looked more and more lost and helpless on this luxurious sofa.   
"I want to understand, Sherlock. I want to understand everything. Because there are things.....there's this thing between us that needs explaining, but.....I don't want to make this more complicated than it already is, it's just not,.....I can't do this. Not right now." John stumbled over his words. He was breathless and hot and felt quite dizzy at the moment. He would be killed in the next couple of hours, even minutes, that he was certain of. He couldn't think clearly. Sherlock looked up and saw the older man struggle. Not only verbally but physically. John looked pale.   
"I understand. I didn't mean to say that to be honest. I just wanted you to know how much I am indebted to you" John huffed and chuckled ironically.   
"You don't owe me anything, Sherlock. It's me who screwed up. I messed up everything that was good between us." John's eyes faded from Sherlock's face as the detective stood from the sofa walking up to him. He had that worrying look in his eyes. His eyes were so soft, John had to look away. He couldn't look him in the eye. He just couldn't. 

"We both made mistakes. I will always blame myself for you being here. Being in that situation when you should be at your daughter's side. You must not care for me, John. Not as much as being prepared to risk your life. You've got responsibilities, that I don't have." John kept his stare on the floor, he looked anywhere else than into that face.  
"You think your life has so little value then? Just because I am a father, I should not try to fight for things that matter." John tried to choose his words carefully. this wasn't going well. he knew that he would not be able to stay in the same room with him any longer before he would reach his breaking point. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.   
"Things that matter," Sherlock repeated and held his glare. he wasn't a coward, nor would he drop the subject. He wanted to fix what was broken between them, but how could he? How were they ever able to fix it? There's was too much damage done in the past. By both of them.   
"What things that matter, John?" Sherlock's voice came more than a whisper. John shook his head and turned his back on the detective again.   
"I don't know. I guess I wanted to pay you back for everything that you did for me. You're saying you're indebted to me. Well, it's the other way around. You did more for me then any other human being has ever done before. I don't know how I ever going to repay you for that. So this is me trying to do the same for you. I owe you my life, Sherlock." Sherlock's eyes were wide, but he just kept looking at a firm back. How could John say that and turn his back on him?   
"this was never about that. Nothing between us was about that. You are not stupid. You know exactly why you're here. I know why I did what I did. But saying what you said right now, is an insult to the both of us. To our relationship?" John's laugh was slapping Sherlock right across the face.  
"Our relationship? What relationship is left between us? It's non-existent." Sherlock's eyes became wider and he became instantly more furious and upset.  
"For God sakes. Don't turn your back on me when you're talking to me!" He spat and John was so surprised he turned in an instant and looked incredulous. This was turning into a dangerous direction. 

"Don't try to lecture me, Sherlock. I know why I am here, I try to explain myself, but you don't want to listen,...." Sherlock cut him and started to walk closer.   
"Don't do that. Don't play the injured party here. I don't want us to fight. Especially not under these circumstances when we have to stick together, but you can't continue with this charade. Not when it so blatantly punches you in the face. I said what I had to say, but you know well enough not to play me for a fool." John looked down and up again, really trying to hold Sherlock's gaze which was tough. the detective looked so fierce, so full of passion, so ready to do anything for the both of them.   
"I try not to. Really. But please, stop this already. I told you, I can't do this. Not with everything that's going on right now. It's too much. There's just so much I can take and talk about this makes me want to give up completely. I don't want to lose you too. I lost too much in the last 24 hours." Sherlock saw John's shaking form and was so tempted to just pull the ex-soldier into his arms. He knew that John needed this physical comfort as much as he craved it right now.  
"I'm,...I'm sorry John. I really am. I'm sorry about everything that has happened to you because of me." John sighed. Sherlock really needed to stop apologizing. John was an emotional wreck and he was exhausted. He couldn't fight it any longer.   
"Stop apologizing already. I didn't have a choice. There was always just one choice to make. Trying to save you. If I would not have come here, I'd have lost you without even trying." Sherlock blinked for several seconds. There it was. They both knew that they were trying to avoid the inevitable. John let his gaze fall to Sherlock's lips. Yes, he knew he couldn't do it, but he also knew he wasn't able to do anything else any longer.   
"Whatever happens. I know I made the right choice coming here. Turns out my whole life seems to be a lie. My wife. My marriage, I'm not even fully certain at this point that Charlotte is my daughter, but you....you are the only real thing in my life. You always have been the only real thing in my life." 

Sherlock stopped breathing. They stood so close to each other, he could feel John's breath on his face. Both were just staring at each other, although John's eyes were glued to Sherlock's lips. He knew that this was it. The point of no return and he wasn't sure if he should take the leap and jump. He waited for a second for John to make the next move, but he didn't he just stood there, transfixed. That meant he was hesitating. John wasn't sure about this. And Sherlock couldn't really blame him for everything that was going on. He was an absolute emotional mess. So Sherlock took the next step, leaned over to John with his mouth close to his ear.  
"You're shaking. You seem to be in shock, John. I know you want to save me, save us,....but I need to take the initiative in this. I'm sure Victor is listening in on us right this second and he wants to see either of us lose it. I can't let that happen. As much as I want to just let go....I understand that this is not the right time. You are right. You can't do this and you shouldn't." Sherlock's voice tinged on John's earlobe and he closed his eyes for a second. This voice was so soothing and comforting although the things that Sherlock said was totally unexpected.   
"You're prepared to sacrifice yourself, aren't you?" John whispered back, keeping his eyes closed. Sherlock nodded lightly.   
"I am." He had to hold back the three words threating to spill out. But John knew anyways. His eyes opening again and looking for the small cameras in the corner of the room. Victor was definitely listening in.   
"Me too."


	16. Alex and Philippe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Philippe become quite vital roles for the next couple of chapters. They are the most loyal members of the organization and towards Victor, therefore they are to be feared.   
> All in All, things don't really look up for John and Sherlock.

The minute he was entering the room, everybody stopped doing what they were in the middle of doing. There was an awareness that the time has finally come to lay it out there, to surrender, to do everything that was asked of them. The first two people who Victor focused on were Alex and Philippe. Two of the top members of the organization who were operating at the highest level possible.   
Alex was one of the most skilled criminals that Victor has ever seen. An ex-intelligence officer who was hand picked by Moriarty. Everybody knew that she was loyal to Victor but also headstrong and stubborn. As fierce as Alex was known to be, she always found her way to ease the mind of anyone she came across cause she was not only incredibly smart but also very beautiful. Maybe even one of the most beautiful women the organization had to offer because next to brains, beauty was the one thing that Victor valued most.   
“You seem agitated Sir.” She remarked as Victor was pulling on his three piece suite. He half smiled at the black beauty who was sitting in front of one of the monitors eyeing the two people that had changed everything since they had entered their world. Alex grinned. She was more than intrigued to follow this process through. As far as she was concerned there was something big happening and Victor not only ensured the closest circle of members that it was happening, he guaranteed it.   
“Bite your tongue, darling. You and Philippe are in for a treat.” He started gesturing to the rest of the people in the room to leave with one hand movement. Phillippe looked more than irritated. He knew about Victor’s antics in getting what he wants but he never really saw him being nervous. Alex was excellent at reading people. Well, it was her job, but seeing Victor losing his composure was a first. This detective really seemed to have done a number on him.   
The control room as Victor liked to call it was the surveillance base from where anyone in the building could be monitored at any time and anywhere. At the present time, it was for Victor to clear his mind, monitor the two, filling in his most trusted members and calling all the shots.  
“What exactly do you have in mind?” Phillippe continued in his French accent and positioned himself next to Alex.   
“I want to call it all in,” Victor announced and brushed through his blonde slicked back hair.   
“Your pet is not behaving as it should be?” Alex smiled back at Victor who huffed back in return. She was really the only one who was able to talk back to Victor like that and him allowing that. There was always something about their relationship that seemed more like brother and sister.  
“Well, I have to admit,…it didn’t go as I imagined. But I always had a feeling that it would come down to this. They are still dancing around each other, which is quite pathetic but it’s quite clear to me that he needs to be stripped. The sentiment is too strong.” Alex half listening to Victor's ramblings and half listening to what was going on on the monitor.   
“Poor baby. He seems to be consumed by him. Quite clear from what I could gather from having met both of them. I mean, the detective I can understand, but don’t ask me about the doctor.” Alex really seemed to enjoy herself that much was applicable to Philippe.   
“What do you mean?” he asked while Victor was turning towards the minibar, on to preparing himself yet another drink.  
“ I mean, I can understand why he needs to be turned. His brain is amazing, and I don’t even want to start on how incredibly beautiful he is. It’s like someone has painted him. He looks like a statue” Victor grinned at Alex's admiration.   
“He’s totally unaware of that by the way, but I appreciate that you point out the obvious Alex.” Alex turned towards him again with a big fat grin on her face.   
“You’re welcome Sir.”   
“Fact remains. I don’t want to force this. Not with him. But there seems to be no other way.” Philippe nodded.  
“So you consider it. To be honest, if he’s so valuable to this organization, I really don’t know why you haven’t done it already. It’s clearly the only way if he’s still so attached to his old life.” Philippe remarked while following the action on the monitor. They held pause for a moment, while all three of them were watching the monitor, curious about what was being discussed on the other side of the corridor.   
“I’m sorry, but this is pathetic. You need to get rid of this doctor for starters.” Victor twirled his drink, nodding at Alex outburst.  
“I know. That was the actual plan. Getting rid of him. It’s not really an option to let him go at this point. He has seen too much, knows too much, so I have to kill him at one point or another. I’m still contemplating when to do it?” It was a valid question at that point but Alex didn’t really know where Victor was going with this.   
“I really don’t know what you are waiting for Sir. I was wondering the whole time why you were bringing him in in the first place.”   
“To torture William. Yeah, I used an excuse to blackmail but my intention was always to hurt him. I still think it’s a good idea to torture Doctor Watson first and let William watch it. I just want to see him at the point of great rage and grief. Only then he will be completely broken so we can continue on.” Alex nodded lightly.  
“Fair point, but you heard what he just said. He’ll be trying to kill himself.” Victor smirked and emptied his glass.  
“You know we’ve got ways to avoid that Alex. He’s not the first person we held captive and drove to madness and delusion. Once, I’ve destroyed him, he’ll be able to go on. There are so many ways to control his brain and his body.” Victor dropped his gaze for a second.  
“I know that you guys and the organization have their reservations about what I am doing. But I assured the inner circle and I assure you two that I always operate focused on what’s best for this organization. Bringing in and defeating the one person that almost destroyed every part of this organization is going to be not only my greatest achievement but yours as well. We are all part of the same thing, working towards controlling the wealth of this very nation. We’re on top of our game and you guys have done tremendous work so far. So I need you to continue spreading the work amongst the members that I am full control in what I am doing.” Alex nodded her head and sighed.   
“I think you don’t have to assure us about that Sir.” Alex made clear while Philippe stayed silent. He really thought it was best to say as little as possible.  
“I know I don’t have to Alex. In this case I want to. You two are my most trusted and loyal members of this organization and I want to see this operation through with your assistance.” Victor confessed. Alex looked very proudly towards Victor while Philippe looked more like he was done with talking and getting ready for the action. He was always more a man of action. the moment Victor mentioned that there would be another opportunity for torture, Philippe's heart started to beat faster. He was hyped for this. He drove on inflicting pain on others and couldn't wait to get his toolbox out to the doctor.   
"So what's the game plan exactly?" He cut the silence. Victor turned his body halfway to the door.  
"It's simple really. One of you, most likely you Philippe will go back to the room and start to play with Doctor Watson. I will enter the room halfway through and see if there is any interesting information to acquire from him before I put a bullet through his brain. Meanwhile, I want William to watch the whole thing. Make sure that he's chained up though Phillippe, as the boys got a death wish. The moment I shoot Doctor Watson, my focus will be entirely on Sherlock, so I want you to leave the room immediately after with Doctor Watson's body. It's essential that I'm dealing with him on my own from that point on." Alex and Philippe listened closely and hang on every word that was coming from Victor's mouth.   
"What about Mary. Do you want her involved at all?" Good point to raise. Victor just loved quick on her feet Alex was.   
"Not for this. She is one of our best, but I find that this might be to close to home for her. As much as I believe that she doesn't care for the Doctor at all, I fear she has been compromised on some sort of level. The depth of this, I yet have to figure out, but I am sure she'll be fine." At last, Victor was fully turning towards the door in an attempt to open it.   
"You'll give me a sign when you are ready Sir," Philipe concluded and Victor nodded excitedly.  
"I will. Again, it's going to be the same procedure as he would be any other prisoner that we are dealing with. I don't want you to hold back, give it your best and when I feel the time is right, I will come in and finish him off. Understood?" Victor's green eyes were shining with anticipation like never before. He was more than looking forward to this.


	17. Compromised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always felt very strongly about Mary's character in the story, as I see her as an incredibly strong female character that could have been used in different ways. I know that she is not a really important or significant character in the canon, but for my story, I gave her more of a voice and importance that I wish she would have had on the show.   
> I really see her as a stand-alone character without the relationship she has with either John or Sherlock. So for that reason, I wanted to give her character more of an insight into her inner struggles and what she had to overcome and fight against. 
> 
> As I mentioned before, someone is making an appearance from the past!

Her blue eyes were scanning the outside area. Nothing but green and a wide open space. She chuckled to herself. Typically view for someone who had to stay in hiding for a living. Mary knew she didn't really have any choice in what was going to happen to either one of them. She saw the rage in John's eyes, and how his love for her slowly faded the more he was looking at her. It broke her heart in a weird way, which she hadn't really anticipated. This whole thing should have been one of those typical jobs. Mind manipulation and deceiving the target, not getting pregnant and falling in love with the target. That was never the plan. But yet it happened. Mary cared as much as she fought against it, in the beginning, John Watson had her in a tight grip, that nobody else really had achieved before. She felt safe with him and for the first couple of months, she even felt the love that now looking back was never reserved for her, it was never meant to be hers. She realized during that time leading up to the wedding that John Watson's heart has always belonged to someone else. Someone that was the constant threat to her happiness. Someone who could make her life a living hell. So he did. Sherlock Holmes was more brilliant than she could ever be so he was the preferred choice for everyone around her. John, Victor, Moriarty. The List was neverending. So she tried her best to just accept that and not let it influence her too much to a point where she wanted him dead more than anything. But it did. The moment in Magnussen's Office, the hate for the man grew too strong, so she shot him with intent to kill him. There was no calculated shot close to the heart. No surgery. It was to kill him with taking all the consequences, even to get killed herself for it by Victor. She just wanted the man gone, so he could never ever again come between her and what she really wanted. 

"You not going to run" all of a sudden a very familiar voice took her out of her mind to reality and her breath caught in her throat. She blinked a couple of times to make sure it was really real. That he was standing right in front of her. For a split second, she lost her composure and a cold shiver was running down her back. She knew that this moment was going to come someday in the future. She stared at him from across the room, saw him leaning really casually on the leather couch with his trademark grin on his face.  
"I am not used seeing you so jumpy. Aren't you a little bit pleased to see me, Rose." Jim Moriarty's tailored suite, slicked back hair, groomed to the fullest as usual was staring back at her. Mary's heart was beating faster.   
"You don't get to call me that anymore." Her voice broke as much as she didn't want to get affected by his presence. She always knew this would be possible. Him, just showing up like that, out of nowhere. Calling it all it. Victor's voice was echoing in her mind repeatedly. That was their joint plan all along. Victor's and Moriarty's plan. That was the Day. The day they would call it all in without her being involved in it, without them warning her, or giving her a hint. That seemed to be the hint. Mary was not relevant enough anymore. In their view, she was compromised by her relationship with John Watson.  
"What is going on? Shouldn't you be here? You can't be here!" Her voice somewhere stable in her head, but she knew it wasn't. He would see right through her.  
"Making demands, my love." His velvet tongue, so sharp, yet so undeniably dangerous. Mary's stare dropped. She had to put her guard up. She has always been prepared to see him again but had no idea it would be that soon. After everything that has happened the last two years, it was difficult to actually see him back and alive. She knew he always was, at least that much insight Victor was allowing her to have. Nevertheless, Seeing him now in front of her, not having aged one single bit, like it was yesterday she was crouching on that balcony with Philippe, focusing in on Sherlock's head at the swimming hall.   
"What's wrong with you. I've never seen you so startled. As far as Victor has informed me, you always knew about our big plan." Mary let out an amused sound, her breath still unstable and stuck in her throat.   
"Well, as much as he wanted me to know." Moriarty's eyes focused in on her more and more without actually crossing the space between them. Mary's heartbeat stabled a bit again. Naked skin, pulling on each other's hair, heavy breaths. Images that she tried to push at the back of her mind. Those times were over.   
"Fair enough. You know exactly what a slick motherfucker Victor can be." His charming smile was overflowing.   
"Oh yeah. I know all too well." Those little pauses in between. She knew he would figure her out in seconds.   
"You seem oddly hostile. Anything you would like to share with me before I'll figure it out for myself, love." He slicked his hair back, his smile dropping for a second, before he slowly walked towards her, closing in her. This was it. Mary knew she was more in trouble than he actually leads on. He knew her. He made her in more ways that She wanted to confess. Before John, before Charlotte, before everything, there was always him and the organization. Noone could really stop him. Not even Sherlock Holmes. The big plan, con or whatever they wanted the organization to believe was ever going to change that. Sherlock Holmes had a backup plan on that day on that roof, but James Moriarty had several. He knew how to save himself from out of a tight corner, so he had to pull his last resort.   
"I don't really know what you are talking about. There's nothing valuable to share. Nothing of importance than my loyalty to you and to the organization. I am assuming you and Victor will never going to tell anyone how you actually did it. How you actually achieved all of this after dragging the organization to the ground, letting Sherlock Holmes destroy every part of it. Counting the casualties who had to die in order for you to come out the other end." There she was. Rosemund. Moriarty chuckled lightly, one hand reaching for her chin, which he pulled towards her.   
"I missed this, I have to admit. There's no woman quite like you." Mary trying to look away. He had his ways. The charm, the cruelty, the craziness, it was all quite entertaining. For a while. Moriarty brushed her accusations away like it was nothing like she never even uttered a word about her disapproval of things. Her disapproval about not being involved

"Victor told me about your little love affair. I have to admit, I am quite impressed with, how far you went with this. Playing the loyal wife and even breading a baby. Must feel like a whole new life" His amusement about her acting grew by the second. Mary knew that he was half insulting, mocking her and at the same time praising her for being so committed.   
"Well, You left me with that job, haven't you. I tried at least to live up to it?" Moriarty pulled his hand from her chin, chuckling again.   
"That's right and don't get me wrong. I am very proud of you. You never really disappointed me, knowing you would commit to the job a hundred percent. Must have been difficult though. He's the most pathetic man, I've ever seen. stooping down to such level, not an easy thing to do." Mind games repeating mind games. She was really tired trying to focus on the conversation knowing that he would pick up on every single detail.   
"Again you asked for it, didn't you. I was only trying to do my job." Moriarty turned towards the couch.  
"I didn't ask you to fall in love with him though." Snap. There it was. She could attempt to deny it.  
"You know me better than that. You know I wouldn't be that stupid. I admit I made a stupid mistake. I got pregnant, but I panicked." He waved his hand.  
"Don't bother about the child. I am talking about you legibility." She nodded in understanding. This was more a test than anything else. Victor was a lying, cheating, manipulative bastard. She should have known that he would stab her in the back one of these days.  
"Victor believed that I've been compromised, doesn't he'" He draped himself on the couch, his cold, dark eyes scanning every bit of her being.  
"Well, I'll have to admit. It doesn't look good for you, Rose." Mary started to really panicked now internally. This was not a situation she ever thought she would find herself in. Victor had outsmarted her without even realizing it.   
"I thought you trusted me to let me see this through. I am the only one who you really can trust in this organization. You know better than to follow Victor. He tries to get rid of me and everyone knows it." She was good at controlling her emotions not letting Moriarty know that she was shaking out of fear internally. He nodded slowly.  
"I know. Still, a decision has been made on my part. He will be executed tomorrow morning. I decided to monitor the two throughout the next couple of hours." Mary was shaking her head in confusion.  
"Why are you telling me this." Moriarty shrugs his shoulders.  
"Because I think it will benefit you. They have been a lot of things you've done without my approval throughout this whole operation and I want you to at least have the chance to redeem yourself." He was being cryptic, but she was quick. Quicker than most.  
"You want me to do it. Philippe would be a perfect choice but you still want me to do it." Moriarty smiled and nodded.  
"That's a fair enough deal in service to the network and to me." She nodded understandably.   
"He's the father of my child." That slipped out before she could think about it.  
"And up until tomorrow, he will remain the exactly that. You know that I would never harm your child..." She cut him with sulk in her voice.  
"You did worse." Moriarty was more than tickled by that.   
"Very True. But not this time around. I won't touch a single hair on her head, I can promise you that..." She cut him again.  
"You made a lot of promises you didn't keep." He just huffed and grinned again. This man was infuriating her more than anyone was ever capable. Seeing him so relaxed, out of the ashes of Phoenix, was even for him, absolutely extraordinary. He really outdid himself this time.   
"I don't believe in promises, just in true surrender." Mary nodded.  
"That's why you have such faith in Victor. You know about him and Sherlock Holmes, do you? Did he fill you in on his extracurricular activities?" He waved his hand again. Blaze. Non-relevant. Really?  
"I know everything." Mary crossed the room.   
"Good. Make sure you do, cause him and Sherlock go way back."   
"You don't have to bore me with that irrelevance of puppy love stories. I am not interested. Victor and I share certain goals." Mary stood in front of the door. She knew that it was locked.   
"Then go ahead with your big plan, but leave me out of it." Moriarty stood up from the couch in a slow motion and turning towards the door.  
"I thought I was being clear. Don't look so scared, Rose. It's pathetic." She was pathetic and she did look scared. She was.   
"What do you want me to do then?" He crossed the room again, walking up towards her in slow strides.  
"I want you to do as I say. I want you to kill the Doctor."


	18. Hypocrite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock are still locked inside the hotel room with cameras all around them.
> 
> What can I say, it is one of the more emotional chapters. John as a character on the show is often misunderstood. I wanted John to be less repressed, to be more capable, to bare his soul and speak from the heart in this story.

John lost sight of space and time. It felt like they had been locked in that room together for hours by now with no sign of Victor letting them know how things were to play out. From the gritted windows in the room, they could at least assume that it was nighttime but anything else seemed to become more and more of a mystery. John and Sherlock had set the record straight through. At least they tried to be honest with each other. They were prepared to die for each other, to sacrifice there life, if it would mean that the other could survive. John fully knew well though that it was more obviously his life that they were talking about, even if Sherlock tried to block this fact out of his mind. The minutes were ticking by and John became more and more aware that those were precious minutes. Maybe the last minutes or hours of his life. He could go on with talking over and over about the same things, about the same issues that his relationship with Sherlock has caused over the years or he could grow some actual balls and talk about the things that really mattered. The only time he had left to talk about it and maybe even stop talking about it and acting on it. He could clearly see that Sherlock tried to be as much a gentleman as he thought he should be. In the last couple of hours, they were doing everything to avoid the subject, to no voice the elephant in the room, to go back to talking about it without naming it. They were making things more complicated because of that's just the way they always had been with each other. Those unspoken words had never been more prominent It was screaming at John that he could not leave the earth without being able to voice what this man had done to his soul, his heart, his life. Every fibre of John's body was trying to make it easier for the both of them, cause he knew he would not be able to lose Sherlock again. Not like this. Not with knowing what they could have had. 

"You know what. I had enough of this. This bottle is watching me the whole time and we seriously can't do anything about anything right now, so why not enjoy a last drink." John stood up from the sofa and walked up to Victor's decanter, preparing himself a drink.   
"You going to start to drink. Really?" Sherlock looked up following him every move.  
"Sure. why not?" He replied and let the bourbon trickle down into the glass with ice.  
"Hm,...maybe because we both need to keep a clear head. You must know Victor put the bottle there for a reason." John shrugged his shoulders taking the first sip.  
"Well. Good that he did, cause I really need it right now." Sherlock shook his head annoyingly.   
"You've got no idea about this man's mind. As I said before nothing is done without intention on his behalf. He knows exactly what he's doing by locking us in here for hours, observing every move we're making. He's slowly shipping away on our sanity until we are completely at his mercy." John turned, walking through the room. Every now and then taking a sip from his glass.  
"Well. You should know, having had that first-hand experience you were talking about earlier at college. If there's nothing that we can do about it why not at least enjoy it and feed into it. I really enjoy this bourbon. " Sherlock stood up from the sofa. Was John mocking him with that college remark or was something else fueling that strange comment?  
"You seriously want to start drinking now?" John was looking at him in utter confusion.   
"Calm down. Gosh. It's just one drink" He put it off. John was agitated. The liquor helped him to calm down. Relax. Maybe even help him forget all he had lost today. Everything that he could still be losing. His life.  
"You do exactly what Victor wants us to do. Giving in." John swung the whole drink down in one go, turning towards the detective in a swift motion.  
"Really. What is there still left for us to do? We are dancing around this topic for the last or so Hour and all we could figure out is how screwed and messed up we both are. So tell me, what is left for us to fight for?" John didn't mean it exactly like that. There's was something to fight for but at this point in time, it seemed really unlikely that they were going to be successful in saving each other. Sherlock's eyes glazed over John and over the room.   
"I'm sorry Sherlock. But what I mean is that....there's no saving us, or saving one another. There's no sacrifice to be made. My fate or our fate has been decided by Victor. He's pulling all the strings. So excuse me, if I decided to at least enjoy one last drink." Sherlock knew that John had a valid point. There wasn't really a harm in him drinking but it irritated Sherlock that Victor was really on the brink of winning. That Victor had succeeded after all. There was nothing that Sherlock could do to stop him. Not even with a threat to kill himself. Victor would never let that happen.   
"I understand. I am sorry but..." John waved his hand in frustration and crashed his empty drink on the decanter.  
"Stop the apologizing. We are done apologizing. About the past, about our relationship, about what we did to each other. I forgive every single thing. We just need to stop lying to each other. There's no sacrifice to be made, there's no debt to be paid, nothing that we owe each other to do and I was silly to think that,....I've been denying the truth for such a long time just so I can live the life I thought I should have, the life I thought I'd deserve without seeing that I already had all of that since you entered my life all those years ago." Sherlock was trying to say something but decided to keep quiet, because he agreed. Those were the facts. He always knew that.  
"I've been a coward and I've been jealous and petty and incredibly stupid for not wanting to believe that, but it's undeniably true." He scratched the back of his neck, and Sherlock saw that John's eyes were glazed, that he spoke from the heart.   
"And I know I said that I can't do this, but at the same time what is the point. Yeah, Victor might want to see this. Want to make it more perverse, crueller for us, just to torture us to the extent that we both will die hypocrites and liars." Sherlock had a bit of trouble keeping eye contact but also his legs were leading him closer to John. He just wanted to be close to him. That's all he ever wanted really.   
"I'm done denying this. I don't want to regret not having been able, to be frank with you about all the things that have been going really wrong in the past because I was too much of a coward to tell you how I feel. I hate myself for letting it come to this. For letting this impossible situation we are in making me want to open up and finally talk about this, but there's nothing I can do about it now, Sherlock." John's voice broke and Sherlock made the first move and pushed John's body into his for an embrace. The minute their bodies connected John's hands were gripping Sherlock's shirt so tightly at the back, he never wanted to let go again. Sherlock could feel John's body shaking slightly.   
"You don't have to explain. I get it, I get all of it and I know. I know why you did what you did and I know how difficult it was for you and I don't want to make it too difficult for you now...." John cut him, still enveloped in his embrace. John's mouth rested on Sherlock's shoulder, his nose taking in the beautiful scent of this extraordinary man that he was so infatuated with since he first saw him at the day they met in the laboratory.   
"No. I don't want to wait for another minute, Sherlock. I've waited for too long and now it's too late and I am sorry, I am so sorry for that to happen like this, but I want you to know that,..." He lifted his head in a swift motion from Sherlock's shoulder looking up into those green eyes which were looking at him with so much love and care. He never had anyone look at him like that ever in his life. One hand of Sherlock's was starting to cradle John's cheek, stroking it in a loving manner and John's eyes started to water. He deserved to die. He deserved it for being so stupid and ignorant for treating this man like that. A man that has loved him so strongly for all those years while he treated him like the last piece of waste, like dirt.   
"How could you love me like that?" was the only question that John had in mind while his eyes travelled over those gorgeous features. Sherlock just didn't want to let go. He wanted to stop time. They were finally so close to acting like they should have always acted. Like two people who were madly in love with each other, crazy about each other.  
"Can, you mean. I never stopped loving you." Sherlock's words were covering John's Heart. There it was and the first tear was spilling over John's face and John was done waiting or saying anything. He was gripping on Sherlock's collar and pressed their lips together. It was like an explosion in Johns mind. He could not believe how magnificent this feeling was. Both holding on to each other for dear life. John was yearning for this moment it seemed his whole life. The feeling when you finally know who you were meant to be with. The feeling when a switch flips in your brain and you understand everything about what people mean by truly loving someone. Sherlock was and always has been the love of his life. 

The kiss started sweet and slow and soon turned into a passionate one where Sherlock had to really hold himself back to not have John right here at this moment, although he desperately wanted to. Sherlocks ripped up shirt found warmth in Johns' hands. Sherlock could feel a wetness on his cheeks from John's tears. John's tears were spilling without him realising it and Sherlock pulled out of the kiss with a smile, while leaning their foreheads together.  
"You are making my cheeks wet," Sherlock said sweetly while John chuckled lightly, trying to get back his breath from the kiss.   
"I know. I don't know what to say, Sherlock. I never felt like this before." John confessed, his hands stroking Sherlock's black curls at the back of his neck. How long he wanted to do this but never confessed it to himself. How blind could he be, for swallowing down those feelings for such a long time? Now they just spilt over that John never wanted to let Sherlock go ever again.  
"John, I love you. I love you so much." Now that he could say it too him, Sherlock didn't want to stop saying it, it felt like so amazing to finally be able to say it, to share it. He waited for John's confession for a few seconds, really fearing that the man was not going to be able to say it.  
"I love you too." and there it was. Finally. Sherlock's heart was bursting as it was John's. They had finally been able to confess it to each other after all those years pretending to be just friends. John's face couldn't grow a wider grin as he pulled Sherlock back into a long kiss. Both didn't really want to let go of each other ever.   
"God, I love you," John said in between kisses and Sherlock hands were all over John's body. Both heating up again. Both wanting each other so badly, they had to pull out of the kisses, just to not ripping all of their clothes off.  
"I want you so much. I never felt this desire for someone ever. I,...I'm losing my mind." John stumbled over his words starting to kiss along Sherlock's neck. Sherlock moaned into the touch and he knew they were in trouble. The desire for each other rolled over them, overwhelmed them, that they couldn't think clearly, but they had to. Sherlock was so happy, he forgot what situation they were still in, that it was about life and death and that they couldn't pretend that they were back at home in Baker Street. They were cameras everywhere, observing them. Sherlock pushed lightly at John's chest, trying to a bit of space between them, which was incredibly hard.   
"I feel the same, but there are cameras in this room." John looked up in a daze eyeing the camera in the corner of the room, dropping his head in Sherlock's warm chest. They were both aware that the happiness they felt in that moment was always going to be overshadowed by what was going on right now. That they were maybe minutes, hours away from being ripped from each other.   
"I don't want to die, Sherlock." His voice was small and Sherlock's arms were embracing him with such tightness as he wanted to protect John at all cost. He would, that John was sure of.   
"I am sorry for having wasted all those years. We could have had this all those years ago." John mumbled into Sherlock's chest.  
"Stop it. I've mistakes too. After the wedding, I thought I lost my chance of ever confessing to you how I feel. I just did not want to be selfish with you, I wanted you to be happy. I could have said something, but I didn't" John shook his head lightly.  
"Wouldn't have made a difference. I would have shot you down back then. I was so deep in denial, I would not have let anything get in the way of this wedding." John replied and Sherlock could hear the deep regret in his voice as John's had lifted from his chest. Both staring at each other. How did they get here for Christ sakes?   
"On one thing I agree with Victor. I don't deserve you, Sherlock. You are a better man than I'll ever be." Sherlock shook his head vehemently.  
"No. You don't give yourself the credit you deserve, John. You are the most loyal, the most clever man I know." John was dropping his gaze. He just couldn't understand what Sherlock saw in him. he was a mess of a human being.   
"Sherlock. I need more time with you. I can't go without,....without..." His eyes watered again, his voice broke and Sherlock's hands were holding him so tight.   
"I know." That was all that was left to say for Sherlock cause he knew. He knew what John meant and what he felt cause he felt exactly the same. The same insecurities, doubts and fears about what was about to happen to them.


	19. End of the Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mary and Victor are struggling with the new developments of John and Sherlock's relationship.   
> There is a plan and they all seem to be prepared. However, who is to be trusted in a group of criminals?
> 
> I really liked to explore Mary and Victor in this as they both seemed to mirror each other more and more. Although Victor seems to be the more powerful one, Mary is most of the time very unpredictable and super fierce. Of course, with the arrival of the mastermind himself, things will start to shift more and more and Sherlock is going to have to deal with a lot of stuff in the next upcoming chapters.

It seems like a split second or maybe longer that Moriarty was in the room, playing her mind like a tuned instrument. Mary found herself after several minutes in another room. The Control room they called it. Mostly used to monitor their prisoners, their victims. This time around it just wasn't the everyday victim. It was her husband. Technically speaking they were still a married couple. However, what was unfolding in front of her on the monitor was something she has always feared. Deep down she knew that she was never enough, never the person that holds his heart, but they had been happy for a while until the detective reentered their lives.   
"You really want to watch this?" Alex giggled behind her back, walking around the room, fiddling with a gun.  
"That's why I am here, am I?" Mary responded bored and turned towards the younger woman.  
"Well, yeah. I just reckon it's your only chance to get into Bosses good graces again. Seeing you are our most skilled operator." Alex's tongue was sharp and Mary didn't miss the hint of jealousy that was lying in that comment. She brushed it off though. Right now she was living in her own hell. The hell she had created for herself. The hell that she was always meant to end up in. Being the professional that she was, she really had no other choice to choose her life over the life of someone who still cared about, someone she still harboured deep feelings for.   
"Whatever, Alex." She responded confidently and followed how the two men on the monitor stepped closer to each other. Mary huffed. He was really going to do it this time. She felt how her heart seemed to drop in her chest. Seeing her husband and Sherlock embrace was harder then she had anticipated, but also a relief. It had nothing to do with her. She wasn't the reason that this marriage didn't work. She never was and she always knew.   
"Whoop. It's getting exciting now." She heard Alex enjoyment in the background.  
"It's good though. They can at least say goodbye to each other. That's probably the saddest story I've ever heard" Mary was more than composed. Alex was a wildfire as much as she was one of the most intelligent young women, Mary has ever encountered.   
"You getting a kick out of seeing them together, do you," Mary asked, again seemingly bored. Alex was taking her gun about and started cleaning it.  
"Yeah. In fact, I do. I admire their courage as much as I admire your professionality in this. You've had to execute one of the most difficult jobs while being completely on your own and today you're going to finish it." Mary stood up from the chair with one eye always on the monitor.   
"Well. That's not really what I am doing. I am just following orders, like I always have done, like the good little soldier I am." She said more sarcastically.   
"Moriarty giving you a hard time about it. I know. Trust me." Alex turned towards her and Mary gave her a half smile. The jealousy fading from Alex's eyes.  
"Don't think I don't respect you. I do." Alex made clear while Mary nodded.   
"I know you do." 

The door to the Control Room was being opened in a swift motion. Both women absolutely startled by Victor coming in.   
From what Mary could gather, he wore a new suite. A velvet red blazer was covering his muscular torso.   
"Don't get quite on my account, ladies." His tongue was as sharp as Alexes. Mary rolled her eyes internally, but she kept silent. The air around Mary and him was fuelled with tension, but Mary knew she could count on Victor's snarkiness.   
"Hope you're not holding that little meeting I arranged against me, Mary." His grin wide while Mary tried her best to brush it over. She didn't have anything left to say to Victor.  
"Of course not. I'm sure you had your reasons." Victor's smile faded a bit.  
"Well,...you might want to know that he did request to see you. I was just the middleman." Mary had a feeling creeping up on him that Victor wanted to get over the tension between them.   
"You are always just the Middleman." Mary's comeback was as sharp and Victor shrugged his shoulders.  
"Fair enough. You are angry with me, and I can understand that but you've done this mistake yourself knowing about the consequences." He pulled at his collar while Mary was flexing her hand slowly. In a minute he would probably ask her to follow him.  
"I'm done talking. That's not what I am here for right?. He made it clear what he expects of me and I am ready whenever you are." Victor started to circle around her. He was moving like a tiger.   
"I had no idea you were so impatient to get to work, but it's good to know that you want this to be done as quickly as possible, although you know exactly what you are supposed to make him suffer. I already ordered Philippe but unfortunately, that decision doesn't rely on me any longer" He laughed a bit to himself while Mary didn't follow his gaze.   
"Well, then you probably have to get used to taking orders again." Victor stopped for a second.   
"I think you got it all wrong. I am not the errand boy anymore. I have proven myself over the last few years and..." He said confidently while his gaze travelled to one of the monitors showing the doctor and Sherlock in a loving embrace, both entwined in a kiss as much as Victor could make out. His breath caught in his throat for a second and his mind stopped to wonder which Mary and Alex both didn't see coming. He furred a brow.   
"If I could I would send you in right now,...but he wants to do it tomorrow morning." Mary dropped his gaze and couldn't hide a grin. She was secretly enjoying seeing Victor like this. He struggled to see them together. He struggled as much as she did.  
"Right. I will be ready. If you don't need me for any other services, I would excuse myself to get some rest. It has been a long day." Victor's eyes didn't move from the monitor as he nodded lightly.  
"Of course. You are excused." Mary's relief over getting time for herself overwhelmed her so much that she leapt to the door as fast as she could.   
"You can go to Alex," Victor added and Alex looked at him in utter surprise. There was something different about his demeanour. The minute he was looking at the monitor, it felt like he just dropped his facade. His mask. Alex knew Victor very well, or as much as he allowed her to know, and from what she could gather, he seemed to be getting more and more upset about the situation. Having Doctor Watson around in the same room with Sherlock Holmes was beyond infuriating for him. He couldn't keep it together. Moriarty was calling the shots.   
"Good night Sir," Alex added before she stepped out of the room and left Victor behind. 

The images, the sound, everything about this situation was shattering him, was eating him up from the inside. He was close to trying to convince Moriarty to not wait any longer, to not grant them more time. What was the point in that anyway? Why did they have to wait?  
Victor was wrecking his brilliant mind for hours on this, and couldn't figure it out. He knew that they both were clear on how to execute their plan. The plan that they had for a long time now. Years and years. Victors dropped to one of the chairs, his head started to hurt. There it was in front of his eyes. The confession that was bound to happen. 

"I never stopped loving you" 

Hearing Sherlock saying those words to someone else than him, was doing something to him that he couldn't really describe. On one hand, it seemed hilarious that after all those years they were finally able to confess to each other, what seemed to be so clear to see for everyone, but on the other hand, it struck a chord deep within Victor's body. Sherlock never loved him, that he was sure of now. He was never even close to feeling what he was feeling for John for him. There was a time when he really thought that he could have Sherlock act like this towards him and it would be genuine but it was all on the surface. There might have been an attraction, a fascination for Victor but there was never that kind of love present. 

He heard the click of a door and long strides walking across the room.   
"Sulking about your lover, I see." The equally charming voice was ringing in his ears. Victor stood up in a swift motion, brushing up his blazer.  
"Well, not exactly," Victor replied nonchalant, shaking his head.   
Jim tilted his head.  
"I am very pleased with you Victor. I can say it enough. You've achieved a lot in the last few years. You never slip up." Victor didn't know what to add to the comment so he stayed quiet, just looking at the mastermind that stood in front of him.   
"Your only Achilles heel seems to be the Sherlock Holmes himself. You've done everything right Up to this point. Preceding with our plan and going after Doctor Watson. You and Rosemund have been really exceptional. But just like her, you have let sentiment come in the way of your mission." Victor felt like he was being lectured and he disliked that to its core.   
"But all will work out in the end, I'm sure. Rosamund will finish the job that I gave her as will you." Moriarty was walking around the room while Victor tried to look unimpressed. They were equalled to each other. Lots had changed in the last two years that he has been away.  
"Nothing can dislodge the plan at this point. they are being monitored and I've prepared everything for tomorrow to make the transfer smoothly. The only one who could fuck this all up is Rosemund." Moriarty nodded.  
"Well,...yeah. She can be quiet unpredictable, but she is bound to me. She won't have any other choice. You, on the other hand, I don't have any issue with." Victor did a double take.   
"What do you mean by that exactly." Moriarty waved his hand. he always did that.  
"There's really no need to disguise what everybody surely knows. Your craving for power is so evident for everyone to see. I've been away for a long time while you been managing the place, always pretending to be me. Wanting to be me. Not only in terms of this organisation, also in terms of him. He has wrapped you around his little finger, and you are completely oblivious to it. It's hilarious really, but it's not what the head of this organisation needs." Here it was. Moriarty coming for each member individually. Victor tried to stay calm, there was no reason to panic yet.  
"Well, I won't lie. We share a past, that you are probably aware of by now. But I would never jeopardize the network for it. At the end of the day, he is just a man." Moriarty chuckled lightly.  
"Is he now? Is he really? A man that almost destroyed this organisation. Destroyed almost everything that I have worked so hard for. I don't think so." Victor started to sweat a bit. The room was slowly closing in on him.   
"He is just a man. At least for me and I defeated him. We defeated him together. There's nothing else to be said. I have got everything under control when it comes to him. My past connection to him doesn't change that." Moriarty shrugged his shoulders in a comical manner.  
"I guess I just have to believe your word." Moriarty's eyes were scanning the monitors.  
"And don't worry I know we are on the brink of victory. As I said, I don't have an issue, Victor, as long as you hold up your end of the deal. I don't want another one of my agents slipping up like Rose did." Victor nodded lightly.   
"I won't"


	20. Time is Running Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John opens up and time is running out.

"I need more time. I need more time" Those four words were replying in his mind the whole time while Sherlock and John were looking at each other in the close proximity they settled themselves in. More than a good half an hour ago, they were lying on the king size bed in this beautiful suite, either one on each side, with their bodies, turned towards each other, staring at every detail of the others face and trying to take as much in of the moment as possible. John's face was still tear stricken but Sherlock managed to calm him down, suggesting to give their bodies a needed rest and just lie down on the bed. John's hand were twitching with each passing moment. He wanted to touch, to feel so badly but knew that there was no point now. They could do all of that but they would always be watched. One thing John couldn't deny himself though was touching Sherlock's beautiful black curls. He stroked them lightly while trying to keep his eyes open. He was more than tired. His body was tired but he refused to fall asleep, cause he didn't want to waste the time they had left together.   
"You can't keep fighting this John. I see your eyelids giving up. You need to sleep." His soft, deep voice was music to John's ears.  
"I know, I know. I just don't want to wake up without having you lay next to me." Sherlock grabbed one of his hands, stroking it carefully.  
"I won't go anywhere. I promise you." John sighed.  
"You can't possibly promise me that. We both know what is coming, Sherlock." Sherlock closed his eyes. John was right but he really didn't want to hear any of that anymore.   
"I know. But being with you here right now is the only thing that's important to me. I never want to let go." John tried for a smile, but his smile was weak. He was overcome by the hurt, pain, and sadness that was bound to happen for the two of them.  
"Me neither. There are so many things that I still want to tell you. So many things that you need to know." Sherlock didn't want to have this conversation but he very well knew that they had to talk about this. It was important for John, so it had to be important for him. Sherlock's hand found it's way under John's shirt. He just needed to feel him, forgetting about the cameras. He felt John's shiver immediately.   
"Sherlock. stop. otherwise, I really won't be able to hold back." Sherlock's eyes scanned John's body in front of him. What he would give just to forget about the cameras and rip those clothes off of him.  
"Then don't." Sherlock's voice came breathless and rather sexy and John's head was swimming immediately, so he leaned forward to Sherlock's chest and nuzzled his head under those dark curls. 

"Don't do this to me. Please. I won't be able to hold off if you continue teasing me like this. There are cameras in this room, and I don't want to give this bastard or whoever is watching a show. We are not lab rats for them to observe." Sherlock sighed deeply and let his hand wander over John's warm torso.   
"Understood and you are completely right. I just want you so much, you've got no idea how much I want you." John leaned back a bit, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wild.  
"You've got no idea, Sherlock. I want you with every fiber of my body." His voice broke and Sherlock could see how broken he was inside. How this whole day destroyed him. How much he had suffered. He just needed to protect him now. There was no bigger job for Sherlock then to protect his love. His only ever love.  
"If we both get out of here, you have to promise me that you will return to Baker Street. I won't spend another day apart from you. You and Charlotte will be my main priority." John's eyes were so full of regret still. Wasted time. So much time that he could have had with him and Charlotte.  
"Right now, it seems very unlikely that we both will get out of here, but of course I would return to Baker Street in a heartbeat. Nowhere else I'd rather be than with you." Sherlock's hand were covering the skin on the spot where his heartbeat was. It was drumming wildly against his ribcage.   
"I need to say a few things because I don't want to forget saying them to you in case,...in case this is really the only night we will spend together like this." John really tried to not burst out into tears again. 

His body was just too exhausted to produce any more tears.   
"Please don't John. I can't..." John cut in before Sherlock could continue.  
"I need to say it or I will regret it forever. I already have many regrets, made too many mistakes with you. I don't want to continue doing this. I want to be real and honest about everything." John's voice broke again. this was harder than anything he ever had to say.  
"You are brilliant, Sherlock Holmes. The most brilliant man I've ever met in my life. I knew it the first time, I came into the laboratory and saw you leaning over that ridiculous microscope of yours. I immediately knew that there was something about you that I couldn't shake, rather I didn't want to. You are like a magnet, you draw people in as much as you don't to, but you do. You drew me in and I was hooked. I am as hooked as I was back then. The moment I really knew I was in trouble was the night at the pool when I was ready to die for you. I didn't even think about it, it was just so obvious, as it seemed to be obvious to you. Trying to convince myself that it was just a friendship, that I was just very loyal, was my way of not going crazy not being able to touch you, or be with you in the way that I always truly wanted. I just blocked it out and denied it and lied to myself because it was easier. All those girlfriends I had was me being afraid of what we had. I was overwhelmed by my feelings for you. It's scary to feel that kind of love for someone. So I buried all of it. Next thing I know is you jumping from the building and being ripped out of my life." John's closed his eyes for a second. There was still so much pain there.  
"It was the worst thing I ever had to go through. It changed everything. You've got no idea about the guilt and pain I went through for two years. Mary did safely me for ending my life because of it. I just didn't know how to cope." Sherlock's hand tightened around John's. It was difficult listening to this but it was also necessary.  
"Obviously when you came back, I didn't know what to do. I wasn't thinking straight. It was just too much. I wanted to kill you as much as I wanted to never let you go again. I struggled so much and on the day of the wedding, I decided that you hurt me so badly that I almost didn't survive. I was too afraid to come back, I wanted to protect myself from you, from my feelings for you and Mary seemed the safer option the option that would bring me less pain...." John had to grin a bit.  
"The jokes really on me concerning that but anyways,.....I was just not ready. And I remained conscious around you. I never wanted to be too close, held you at arm's length and my belief I kept right when I saw you overdose on the plane. It was confirmation that you weren't good for me, that you will hurt me again,.....but that was not the issue at all. It was the issue that I had with myself. The things that kept me from being honest with myself." John took a pause and could feel Sherlock's warm hands comforting him. The hand on over his heart was so warm and it felt amazing having him so close, just listening.  
"It's good that you tell me now, John, but I got things to tell you as well." John shook his head and cut Sherlock with a kiss. A soft kiss.  
"you can tell me anything."


	21. Nothing Left To Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock opens up and reveals further things about his past. All the words are spoken and they come to a point where there is nothing left to say.

John was starting to cover featherlight kisses down Sherlock's throat and neck. Sherlock closed his eyes, while a long moan escaped his lips.  
"I really need to say this, before you completely drive me mad with what you doing right now." John pulled his head up with a soft grin before he nestled his face into Sherlock's dark curls again. Oh, how he loved those curls.   
"Right. That is the point, posh boy." Sherlock's eyebrow started to raise.   
"Hang on. Posh boy. What is that suppose to mean?" John buried his face further into Sherlock's hair, his grin never fading.   
"My nickname for you. Actually for a while now." Sherlock couldn't believe what he heard. John had a nickname for him, and an ambitious one nevertheless.  
"Since when am I posh." John pulled back from his hair, now fully sitting on top of Sherlock with both legs on each side of his body.  
"Come on. You and Mycroft are the most pompous Englishmen in the entire Kingdom. Don't take it as an insult. It's my way of telling you how special you are." Sherlock laughed out a huff.  
"Yeah. It's very endearing John. Nevermind, my Nickname for you was idiot. So I guess we are even." Both smiling at each other. John pulling Sherlock in a kiss again. 

"We can't keep doing this before either of us won't completely lose their mind," Sherlock said in between kisses and John sat up with his hands on Sherlock's trained chest. He just wanted to feel him. Time was running out more and more and he could feel his body craving the other. His own words of running through his mind just seconds ago "There are multiple cameras in the room", "We're being watched". John nodded and let his body fall next to Sherlock's.  
"I losing my mind already." Sherlock grabbed his hand tightly again, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily."  
I need to say this and this is not easy for me, but you need to know this John. I need you to know everything about myself." Sherlock's voice came deeper than ever before and John's inner alarm was turning itself on. There was something about the sound of his voice.  
"I already know everything about you." Sherlock took a deep breath and kept his eyes on the ceiling, tightening his grip on John's fingers.  
"No. Unfortunately, you don't. This isn't easy for me to say, but I think you should know. You should know everything about me because you are the only person in the world that I trust completely." John's eyes were glazing over his profile, his heart beating through his chest.  
"I did things with Victor in the past that I am not proud of. Things that I never told anyone. Things that I regret, that I am embarrassed about now. Things that only he can make me do." Sherlock's eyes started to water a bit. "What do you mean." John feared the worst. Victor was a really the root of all their problems.  
"I mean what I am capable to do when he's controlling me. In the past drugs where the one thing that made me submissive and me and him would do all sort of things to satisfy our needs. We were the posh, upper class, as you describe me. That is still there, and it can be disgusting. Victor had a reputation at Cambridge and he destroyed mine bit by bit, but I was too weak back then, I always ended running back to him." John's eyes were wide.  
"What did you do."   
"All sorts. Wrecking places, getting into fights, harassing, insulting and one night I witnessed how he drove a girl to insanity to a point where she ended up taking her own life." John swallowed deeply. He was in shock about what Sherlock just confessed to him. Victor had always been a psychopath and he drove Sherlock to be one as well. Sherlock's head turned towards John's.   
"You can judge me. I deserve it, but I want you to know that I was capable of those things as well. It is no surprise that I didn't blink an eye shooting Magnussen in the face. I was doing it to save you, but I was also doing it because I was capable of doing those things in the past." John shook his head in disbelief. He tried to get his breath back but it was stuck in his throat.  
"Magnussen is not the only person you've killed" Sherlock wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question, he just knew that John was trying his best not to turn away, to think, to digest what Sherlock just told him.  
"No. I've killed before but it wasn't at random. Victor introduced me to a lot of things. I was always under some influence. Either cocaine or morphine. Sometimes as much as heroin. He introduced me to how to play a person's mind, how to control it, how to deduce people and how to play them so they become puppets, playthings." Sherlock spilled his first tear. 

"You still haven't realized how dangerous he really is. It took me more than 5 years after college to understand the repercussions that my time with Victor had caused and fought my way back with Mycroft's help, but it took me five full years to become what I am today. five years to deal with the addiction, although I still struggle with it, at least I got rid of heroin." John was flabbergasted. Sherlock's tears were streaming down his face. He was afraid. He dreaded to see that confession change anything.  
"Why are you telling me this." John's voice was small.  
"Because I want you to know because you need to know everything about me, or who I was. I was young but not innocent. I did terrible things because I enjoyed them,...I managed to get out of it and change my life after I left Victor and college, but the fact is,.....Victor is still the same person. He hasn't changed. He still gets a kick out of inflicting pain and he will try to do the same with us. He will torture us until we scream for mercy until we want to end our own lives." John was shaking his head.  
"No. It's not us. It's me. He's going to do that to me. We both know he will never physically hurt you." Sherlock pressed his lips together.  
"He did in the past, and he will do it again. He will do as he pleases. I just want us to be prepared. I want you to know what we are up against." John looked at Sherlock and saw the pain and sadness on his face and how afraid he was. John softly smiled and encircled one hand on Sherlock's cheek.  
"I know. And it doesn't matter to me who you were and what happened in the past with Victor. As you said you were a different person back then. Hell, you were 22, a kid. You are not a bad person Sherlock Holmes, you are the best person I know." Sherlock's tears were running down uncontrollably.   
"How can you say that. I did such terrible things. I try to bury it and block it out of my mind as much as possible for the last 15 years, but being in that situation again, seeing Victor doing exactly the same routine that we used to do on others. It just brings back all those memories back again. The person that I was when I was around him that I don't even recognize." John's hand stroked his face, trying to calm him down.

"It's okay. I don't need to know. All that matters to me is the man I know now. The man I know is the man that I fell in love with." Sherlock nodded slowly. There were both broken and tortured souls who found each other in so much darkness. They both saved each other in more ways that they could describe.   
"I love you so much John Watson, and I can't take to wait here without doing nothing. I just can't lose you, I can't...." Sherlock's face was covered in tears by now and his body was shaking. His whole being was shaking in reaction to what was happening, or what was going to happen. John embraced his body and held him tighter than he ever had. John's mouth was in Sherlock's ear and his voice came in a whisper so low that nobody would hear this except the two of them.   
"Listen to me. Listen, we both know that this is likely to be our last and only night together like this. We just can't break down Sherlock. We can't. We both have got to keep it together until the very end otherwise we already lost. I need you to listen to me and I need you to listen clearly. If this all is going to end with me getting killed, as we discussed before, I want you to try your absolute best to stay alive. You have to promise me, that you won't be giving up, that you will do everything in your power to stay alive and get out of here. I want you to live the best life, the most fulfilling life and I want you to return to Baker Street and to Mrs. Hudson and take my Baby Girl from Mary. I want you to take care of Charlotte and I want you to teach her everything about her Daddy and about us and our adventures. And when you are ready, I want you to find love again because you deserve it so much, Sherlock.You deserve to be loved. I want you to grow old and settled down in your little cottage in Sussex until the end of your days. I want you to get everything you want out of life and more and I want you to be capable to do it without me." John's whisper broke at the end and he could only hear Sherlock's low breathing. John knew that there arrived at a point where there was nothing left to say to make this more painful and wonderful at the same time. All the words were spoken. There were no more words left to say, and Sherlock knew that too. So, he pushed John down to the mattress in a swift motion with him laying on top of him, pressing his lips to his and starting to let his hand's wonder. He was sick and tired to wait, to hesitate for going want they both wanted, needed. Fuck the cameras!


	22. Lips and Tongue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock makes good on his plan to drive John into oblivion. 
> 
> Excuse the delay again for this chapter. I will get some time hopefully over easter to update more chapters. This one is a bit shorter.

Sherlock and John were in another world. It wasn't that they didn't know that there were being watched, it was more that they couldn't care less any longer. Why wait until tomorrow. Until something would happen that will set them apart again.   
"Sherlock, slow down." John was looking at him while Sherlock was pinning him down, letting his hands wander down John's torso, preparing to open his belt and trousers.  
"What do you mean? I think we've been waiting long enough, haven't we." Sherlock's voice came out rough and husky. A shiver was running down John's back just hearing that Voice in that tone, in that mood, with that arousal and lust written all over it. It made John not only shiver but he could already feel himself seeing stars on the ceiling. What this man could do to him was indescribable.

"Yes, I agree. But are you sure" John wanted security, he wanted Sherlock to be one hundred percent certain about what they were about to do? Sherlock didn't really take that much notice of what John was saying at all and continued to open his trousers and letting his hand wander into his underpants, gripping tightly at the shaft of his erect cock. John was pressing his eyes together and was moaning softly as a response.   
"I suggest you stop asking silly questions and just let me get on with it. I am done talking." His voice was so sharp and soft, it was like liquor traveling slowly down John's throat.   
"Oh Fuck." John moaned slowly again as Sherlock was starting to move his hand up in down John's cock in long hard strides, feeling his rhythm and trying to memorize every little facial detail on John's face while pleasuring him. John could not remember ever feeling this way.   
"Oh, God. If you keep this up, I will come in seconds." John could not remember ever feeling himself on the brink of release in just a few strides. Just to feel Sherlock's hands on his cock was too much already. He wouldn't be able to hold it any longer if Sherlock was running up his tempo. Sherlock meanwhile didn't really reply to anything that came out of John's mouth, he just enjoyed looking at his facial expressions and how his body reacted to his touch. John was at absolute mercy, Sherlock had control over him and he enjoyed that.   
"It's so beautiful seeing you like this," Sherlock mumbled while pulling John's trousers completely down now plus his underpants and freeing John's throbbing cock. Sherlock had never seen a perfect cock in his life. It was just beautiful and he just wanted to put his lips on it, sucking him off and taking John's mind into oblivion. John didn't look down, his whole being was on fire and he could feel himself on the brink of it. On the brink to an orgasm that was so strong, he would actually fall unconsciousness.  
"Oh my god Sherlock, please. I can't hold it." John's voice came weak as Sherlock was quickening his strides. Hell. Everything went so quick. 

It was like being high. A different high. Just ten times stronger for Sherlock. It was just enough to see John like this. To see his love at that hight of pleasure and arousal was the peak of satisfaction for Sherlock without being pleasured himself.   
"Not so quick my love. I want to have a taste of you first." Sherlock hushed again and John's eyes were open and closing in waves of pleasure. John let his head fall back on the bed. It did not matter at all at this point in time if someone were to walk in at any moment, they simply did not care. Sherlock's head was going lower towards his cock and he smiled. He desperately wanted to hear him scream his name. John sucks his hands, gripping tightly into the mattress with anticipation of Sherlock's perfect lips as Sherlock started to take John's cock slowly into his mouth. John gasped immediately, gripping the sheets so tight and budging his hips slightly. The feeling was indescribable.   
"Oh my god. Oh, fuck.." John was breathing heavy as Sherlock was working against him, taking him in completely.   
John could not stop himself while Sherlock sucked him off with simple perfection. It did not escape John that Sherlock must have done this before or he simply was brilliant at everything he did. But this man's mouth was made for giving the perfect blowjob. His lips and tongue were so skilled, John was never that quick to orgasm. Sherlock took him in deeper and deeper and John started to feel his orgasm overwhelmed him. Never in his life did he come that hard ever. His body was doing all sorts of things he never experienced before by the simplest touches from Sherlock and John has had his good shares of sexual partners.   
“Oh my god. SHERLOCK.” He came while he was releasing in Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock was quite happy and relieved when he heard John coming down from his exhilarate orgasm. He wanted to please this man for years and years and finally, he had achieved to hear his name coming from John's lips in the sweetest tone he has ever heard. The tone of absolute bliss and pleasure combined. Sherlock swallowed and looked up towards John who was still dazed and coming down from his orgasm while Sherlock slowly pulled himself up and spread kisses on his face and neck. Both were sweating and breathing heavily. John's eyes were still fully closed, feeling Sherlock's breath on his face. John slowly started to open his eyes, looking right at the face of an angel that has just given him the best orgasm of his life.   
"That was absolutely amazing,....I can't even form any sentences." John whispered. He couldn't describe how he felt in that moment. Happiness was not even enough of a word.   
"You don't know the half of it yet. There are things I can do to you, you never even dreamt of." The sexiness in his voice was unbearable. John just couldn't believe that all this time this man was capable of does those things and wanting to do those things, but never had the chance because they both were too stupid and in denial.   
"I want to experience all of those things with you. I want to do the same things to you." John's voice steadied a bit as he brushed his hand through those sweaty gorgeous locks.   
"And I just wanted to hear you scream my name in pleasure. That's all I ever wanted to hear." Sherlock smiled and took a pause brushing his hands over John's cheeks. John's breathing was still heavy and both were staring into each other's Eyes taking in what just happened.

"I Love you, Sherlock Holmes." John's voice was so clear and steady now.   
"You already said that." Sherlock brushed his lips against John's.   
"I know, but I want to say it as much as possible now, as time is running out and I want you to know that I am being honest when I say that I love you more than I ever loved a person before." Sherlock grinned.  
"You probably just still dazed after that mindblowing orgasm." John chuckled in union but he meant it.   
"I am being serious. I want you to never forget that. We both haven't been able to say those words for a long time now and I want you to know that I am being honest with everything that has happened in the past couple of hours." Sherlock nodded his head lightly while pulling John into a long kiss.  
"I know that you are genuine, but why does that sound like you are saying goodbye to me." Now John pulled him in for another kiss before pulling slightly back, trying to hide his upwelling tears.   
"I am never going to be ready to say goodbye to you, Sherlock."


	23. Allies?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mary and Victor playing cat and mouse. Are they able to restore their relationship and how loyal is Mary towards the organization?
> 
> Mary and Victor are both very complex characters who share an even more complex history. So it's interesting to see how both of them interact with each other after the question of loyalty has been raised, after Mary's status has been comprised by Moriarty. 
> 
> They not only mirror each other in the relationships they have with both Sherlock and John, they also Mirror each other in the places they occupy in the organization. Victor seems to be the one in charge and more power, but is that really the case?

Victor's eyes were glued to the monitor in front of him, his hand tightening his grip on his gun. He was clutching it now, pressing hard onto the trigger while his eyes were stern and his teeth were pressing hard against each other, so much so that he was drawing blood on his lips.   
"I really don't know why you doing this to yourself." Victor was standing upright in seconds and was looking at the female physic that was standing in the doorway, startling him. Blonde short hair was falling on either side of her face. Victor was running his eyes up and down her body. Mary just looking at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest. From the corner of her eyes, she could see Victors gun in his right hand, gripping tightly.   
"I thought you wanted to get some rest. Everyone is up in there beds." Mary brushed her shoulders lightly and walked up to the taller man.  
"Couldn't sleep. What about you?" Victor frowned and looked down at the smaller but fiercely intelligent woman. If he was being honest with himself, he respected her like no other member of the organization.  
"What do you mean." Mary waved her hand.  
"Come on. You know exactly what I mean. Why are you still awake, when you should be resting yourself. Instead, you lock yourself in here staring at the two of them, torturing yourself for no reason." Victor loosened his grip on the gun.  
"You don't know what you talking about. If you think I am in any way compromised than you are mistaken. I am not like you. I am not driven by sentiment and stupid fantasies about marriage and living happily ever after, that's a typical female trade, a trade that's only found on the losing side." Mary huffed amusingly, invading Victors personal space now.  
"Funnily enough, you sound exactly like Mycroft Holmes." Victor brushed her off, trailing his stare to anything but her face.  
"You've got no idea what you are talking about. I am nothing like that man. Mycroft Holmes is not my main priority at the moment, but he will find the end that he deserves one way or another. First I have to deal with his little brother." Mary was so close to him now he could see the little spots of freckles around her nose.  
"You mean the brother that you've fallen in love with." Mary was amused by the perfect mask that Victor wore at all times. He wanted to keep up pretenses but it wasn't working on her. Victor took a pause, taking in her words and deciding to change the subject.  
"What you doing here anyway. What are you trying to find out? You're not here to casually chatting me up. I know you hate me for what I did to you." Victor pocketed his gun into the right pocket of his trousers. 

"You mean the little meeting you arranged between myself and Moriarty." She blinked, waved her hand again and dropped her gaze for a second. Victor knew that she was pissed to no end with him. She was here for a reason.   
"For example yes. The little meeting you've been trying to avoid." Mary let out a small laugh.  
"Well. Can you blame me? I was deceived by a man who once promised me the world. Apparently the story of my life."   
"You have been in this business for a long time, Rose. You always knew that there was no happy ending to the life we are leading." Mary followed a brow.  
"Sounds like someone is getting sentimental after all." Victor shook his head lightly and grinned.  
"Sentiment doesn't suit me as much as it doesn't suit you. You had to learn that the hard way. I, on the other hand, intent on keeping my friends close, but my enemies closer." Mary turned her gaze, crossing the room now, getting some space between herself and the current head of the spider web.  
"By that, you mean your precious detective or Mycroft Holmes." Victor shook his head annoyingly now.  
"I don't know why you're still talking about Mycroft Holmes. He is as insignificant as they come. Mycroft Holmes believes to have power, beliefs to have everything under control when in reality, he has no clue what hits him." Mary nodded, crossing her arms again. The more he let Victor speak, the more he would be able to connect the dots.  
"I know what you are doing by the way" Mary turned brushing her blonde hair behind her ears.  
"What do you mean." Victor stretched his hand.  
"You want to reverse our roles. Seeing that you are under threat, that you have been compromised because of me because you couldn't keep it in check." Mary was furious immediately.   
"You have got to be kidding me. Are you serious? You think I want to get into more trouble than I already am. You really think I want to get back at you for selling me out to Moriarty." Victor walked across the room, invading her personal space, clutching her arms tightly with both his hands.  
"I never sold you out. He figured everything out by himself because you were too stupid to cover your mistakes. I didn't sell you out." Victor let out harshly, while he pulled Mary more into his body than it was comfortable. Mary looked at him in surprise, her eyes wide.   
"I don't care if you tell me the truth or not. All I know is that I was given a job, and now I am being punished for it." Victor released her arms, side-eyeing the monitor.   
"You being punished in more ways than you can imagine." Mary followed his glare towards the monitor, watching along, as she could feel tears welling up in her eyes.   
"I really don't understand why you would hesitate to kill the person that is destroying everything that you've built for yourself." Mary shook her head lightly not looking away from the monitor.  
"You've got no idea how it feels to be loved, that's why you will never understand my motivations or why I did what I did." That shot Victor right through the heart, cause he didn't know what it felt like. He thought he once knew, but he was just being played, manipulated by someone who never loved him back.  
"That's no excuse. You were living a lie all along, cause, in reality, he never loved you back. He was just playing with you, using you to get over Sherlock Holmes." Mary didn't want to hear that. That gut-wrenching pain was still there every time she saw them together.  
"I know that now,....but at the time it felt real and it felt good, and I wanted it to be real." Victor dropped his hands and turned his back on Mary brushing his hands over his face in frustration.  
"You are so pathetic. How can someone be controlled by sentiment? It seems like you drive on the pain that he has caused you. You really want to feel that miserable." His voice raised at the end, while Mary was standing there defenseless.  
"No. but I love him and I can't just turn that off." Victor huffed air out of his lungs getting more and more frustrated.  
"What is it with this little man that you all find so appealing. Am I missing something here?" Mary laughed ironically.  
"The same thing I am asking myself about Sherlock." Victor joined the laughter.   
"Well, what can I say. He's one of a kind." Victor caught himself smiling. Just thinking about Sherlock made him somehow calmer and more content.  
"He might be. But at the same time, he's going to be our downfall." 

Mary turned off the monitors as she saw what was unfolding in front of her. John was vocal during sex with her, but she never saw him in that kind of state. Their sex was always good and satisfying, and she always thought that he enjoyed it but he was never ever reacting towards her touches like he just did reflecting on the monitors.  
"What's wrong. Not able to handle your husband getting sucked off by another man." Victor teased while Mary waved her hand. Her trademark move.  
"No. I just don't see why I should torture myself more. I am not like you. I don't need to see them together like this. I don't know. Maybe you get a kick out of it for whatever sick reason. I for one, don't need that mental image." Victor didn't reply. Mary narrowed her eyes.   
"And don't worry, I won't tell anyone" Victor blinked and looked at her incredulously.  
"What the hell are you talking about" Mary smiled slightly.  
"That you actually sitting in front of that monitor for hours to torture yourself, because you can't take your eyes off him just for one minute. Because you actually are compromised by him. You and he share a past. It's natural to feel that way. You should just say that you are still in love with him because everybody knows anyway. You can fight it all you want, but..." Mary was walking up to Victor, putting her hand on his heart.  
"underneath that, you are as pathetic as I am for falling for someone who will never return that love." Victor was startled at first by Mary's sheer outrages attempt to soften him up. Maybe it was also one of her mind tricks. Nobody really could tell that woman.   
"Well, in this case, he will at some point. I made sure of that. After doctor Watson gets killed by the hands of his own wife, Sherlock Holmes will be at the mercy of one person and one person only. Myself. And nobody else will come in between ever again." His eyes sparkling with sheer determination, Mary was taken aback.   
"Don't underestimate Mycroft Holmes. I know him better than all of you, and he would move worlds to save his only brother. You get rid of the Doctor. Fine. But you still got his brother to deal with." Mary warned while Victor interlaced her hand that was resting above his heartbeat with his own.  
"Don't you worry, Rose. Mycroft Holmes will be the grand finale of my plan. I studied the man for longer than you can imagine, and I know everything there is to know."   
"Well, suit yourself then. I reckon Moriarty and you are on the same page."   
"Always. As much as you are. Believe it or not, but I think if you not completely going to fuck up tomorrow, you will be able to rectify the situation. You know that your future in this organization was always bright with endless opportunities. I don't want this to taint our relationship." Mary looked down for a second and then back up again. Contemplating.   
"What can I say. You can't fix a broken mirror. I put my trust, my whole life into this organization. I slip up once and it's done. that's loyalty for you."   
"Well, you know how we deal with loyalty around here. We ensure it." Victors answer came quick and sharp.  
"I see. That's what you are planning on doing to Sherlock Holmes, isn't it? Your own personal plaything." Victor chuckled and shook his head lightly.  
"That's not how it works."   
"But you know, that it's just a fantasy. It's not real." Victor narrowed his eyes a bit.  
"Hold on. How do you know about this? Has Moriarty informed you about this?" Mary dreaded. She was careful in choosing the right words.  
"Just because it has not been used on me doesn't mean that I don't know about it. I was as loyal as trickling come, so there was never a need for it. But I know what it does, I always knew." Victor took a pause again. Holding up his finger.  
"Did you tell your precious husband about it?" he was getting more and more nervous. Mary bit her tongue.   
"No. My loyalty is to the organization. As I said, I wouldn't want to get into more trouble than I am already in." He wavered and stirred.   
"I believe you, Rose. You are trusted and I would tell you more, I would let you in on everything that I've got planned because this organization needs you as an ally, but as long as your status is comprised my hands are tight." Mary nodded lightly, the sweat slowly trickling back from her forehead.  
"I know that."   
"But after tomorrow, this will be all over, and it's going to be back to how things were. You and I are a great team. We have built this organization up from the ashes after Day zero and we have always relied on each other." Mary smiled lightly.  
"Well, you have done all that. I was too busy running around playing house for the last two years." Victor was waving his head a bit.  
"Ture. but you remain one of the most, if not the most important operator. You can go back to the way things were if you drop all of the baggage, get rid of the ring and the husband and come back to the organization." There was one thing this whole day that was never leaving Mary's mind. One image that was haunting her throughout this whole operation.   
"What about my daughter, Victor. Moriarty said he wouldn't touch a hair on her head, but I can't put my faith in him. I know what he's capable of. I can leave all of this behind except my daughter." Victor had no idea how to react to that.  
"I am afraid you will have to let her go. You yourself know that. You did a lot of mistakes but getting pregnant by this abomination is really the biggest mistake you've made." Mary tried to control herself. She was always good at bottling emotions. But everything seemed so different since she lived this different beautiful life for two years with a husband, a child, the house. A normal life.  
"You are asking a lot of me." Victor encircled Mary's face in his hands.  
"I know. But there's no space for sentiment here. This child was never on the agenda. You must have known that by returning you would have no choice but to give all of that up." Mary nodded slowly, dropping her gaze.  
"I should go." Mary launched while Victor was having a hard time letting her go.   
"You want to leave. You came here to seek me out and you want to leave already." Mary knew that look. Victor was a sick bastard but he was also someone who enjoyed the company.   
"Don't bother Victor. It doesn't mean anything. I didn't seek you out for that, I just wanted to get some things straight." Mary made clear while walking towards the door.   
"Yeah, I know. I am not your type anyway, am I." He said amusingly twirling the gun out of his pocket and laying it down on the desk.   
"Not really no."


	24. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morning has broken. The Time has run out and Sherlock and John find themselves in a nightmare that they weren't prepared for. 
> 
> The stakes are going to get higher and higher and there seems to be no escaping the inevitable outcome. The question remains, who can be trusted?
> 
> This might be the longest running story that I've ever written and I really enjoy the dynamics now between all the characters.

Both Sherlock and John's limbs were tangled together in exhaustion. At one point both of them were just too tired to try to stay awake. Although they desperately wanted to be in the moment after just having had this wonderful experience. John was wrapped up in Sherlock's arms, his hand laying silently on his chest, his head resting on his shoulder. It was the most peaceful scenery that one can imagine. The sun began to rise on the hill and Jim was standing at the end of the bed, listening in on their joint breathing. A smile was cracking at the end of his lips. This would be the day. It seemed to be a beautiful day as well. Not a single cloud in the sky. The right atmosphere to announce a new era. A new time for the network and Jim was looking down on the one person that would ring in that new era. He must have been exhausted. When was the last time Sherlock actually had eaten something or drink some water? Jim was honestly concerned while he was making his way closer to the bed, beginning to sit closer to the two bodies entwined. Jim was narrowing down on Sherlock than black curls were widely spread on the pillow. Jim was trying to compose himself not to brush them from his forehead, to put them back in to place. To put Sherlock back into place. He spread out one hand and mildly began to stroke over Sherlock's cheek. Those gorgeous cheekbones. Jim wasn't hesitating at all. He was eager for the day to start, to execute their plan. Sherlock's eyes were twitching from Jim's light strokes. It seemed that he would be waking up any moment, holding John tightly in place.   
"wake up sleeping beauty." Jim was whispering, his smile never fading. Sherlock felt himself between a dream and reality. He could feel John's content breathing on his neck while another hand was on his cheeks. His eyes were fluttering lightly and all of a sudden he was startled out of sleep, open his eyes widely and looking at the figure sitting next to them on the bed. Sherlock was breathing heavily, drawing his head back frantically from the smooth hand that belonged to none other than James Moriarty. He jumped up so quickly at seeing the ghost in front of him, that John began to wake up slowly.

"Sherlock, what..." John was not even fully awake, trying to grasp the situation as his eyes fell on the man who was sitting next to them on the bed in the most composed manner. His smile was reaching his eyes now and he looked pleased and satisfied. John was holding on tightly to Sherlock, while the detective was pushing John slightly away to the other side, or trying to. His first instinct upon seeing Moriarty was getting John as far away from him as possible.   
"H-H-How can you be here?" Sherlock's voice broke, his eyes still wide, his brain running in seconds now, trying to work out if he was still dreaming, or hallucinating. Jim being his composed self, cracking a smile and brushing a hand over his black hair.   
"So jumpy the too of you. I think I have never seen you so frightened ever." Jim looking down on them, while John pushing at Sherlock's chest lightly, trying to get them both out of the bed to secure some distance.  
"You can't be here. I shot you." Sherlock was saying the words, but they didn't reach his brain yet. Trying to put the pieces together was work in itself but actually believing this situation. He genius for any of this.   
"I know. I was dead, but now I'm back. Probably the only person in the world who has ever achieved the impossible." Jim was standing up in an elegant movement while Sherlock was pushing John away from him in the other direction. So much so that John was starting to stand up from the bed, half dressed and grabbing Sherlock's hand to come with him.   
"Sherlock. Stand up come on." He urged, the sweat building on his forehead. Both looking at each other, trying to convince the other that Jim Moriarty was really in the room, talking to the both of them.   
"Please. Do get dressed and all. I didn't want to barge in like that, but I just couldn't help myself really. You two looked so peaceful together." Jim said in a mocking tone, turning his back towards the two and beginning to walk through the room. Sherlock was just reacting now automatically. He knew that John was having the right attitude to this situation. They had to keep their heads straight. They had to work together. This was more than they ever thought they had to deal anyones. Sherlock and John were starting to get dressed in the rest of their clothes that were lying around, all the while, keeping eye contact, trying to communicate to each other what to do.   
"Please, boys. It's not like I'm able to read minds. You can try all you want to figure out how to get out of this situation, but we all know that there isn't really anything that you can do, is there."

Jim was giggling, turning towards them now, securing his hands in his pockets. Sherlock was brushing through his dark curls and smoothed down his clothes. Were was Mycroft when he needed him? than needed his brother, cause he didn't know what to do. that was the one situation leading up to that horrible incident with Victor, which he had no idea how to get out of. It was not even about him. He couldn't care less what happened to him, but John.   
"You're not going to tell us, how you survived, that's certain," John remarked and Jim raised his eyebrows, looking at the brave soldier that he was.   
"Oh, Dr. Watson. I sometimes forget that you are even in the room. Mostly do, when Sherlock is standing right next to you." John was looking at him in disgust. Moriarty walking slowly up to him, with Sherlock stepping in front of him. It was a core instinct to protect John.   
"Aw. Always the protected boyfriend." Moriarty mocked again while John was stepping past Sherlock who did a double take, invading Moriarty's personal space.  
"We don't care how you did. You can stop trying to intimidate us. Just tell us what you want from us, and we can get on with it. I'm done playing games." Moriarty didn't expect that and was slightly startled at John's outburst, who seemed to be raging.   
"Good Lord. I knew you could be feisty, but you can really still surprise me Dr. Watson, angry little man." He laughed a bit while glaring at John and Sherlock, who looked genius helpless now.  
"For the record. I don't want anything from you, Dr. Watson. Or should I say, John?" He waited for a reaction from the Dr.Cheshirebut John just narrowed his eyes, waiting.   
"You are insignificant to us, to me, to the network. You are not relevant. How could you be in a room with geniuses like myself, Victor Trevor and Sherlock Holmes." John was dropping his gaze a bit. Trying not to let those words have any effect on him. Sherlock stood there mostly paralyzed now, looking at John and Jim, still grasping that this was a real situation, that Moriarty was really in this room. How could he be here? He shot himself in the mouth.  
"You are disposable John and you don't deserve to be in this room. You don't even have the right to speak to me." John was starting to get more agitated now. Those words ran deep and gave a trajectory that Moriarty definitely had a plan for getting rid of him. John had known all along that this would be most likely the day.   
"What's that supposed to mean." He answered more automatically. It was a child. He was still trying to deny the outcome of this, although he knew he wouldn't survive. Moriarty just huffed amusingly.   
"Meaning you are not included in my plans." Sherlock was reaching out, standing now between Moriarty and John, interrupting the moment.  
"Then let him go for christ sakes. If you don't need him, then just let him go." John was attempting to interrupt but Sherlock put his hand up, narrowing his eyes towards Moriarty.  
"What's the point in all of this anyway. You and Victor having some kind of plan that involves me. Fine. Then I suggest you get on with it and leave John out of it if he's not of interest to you anymore." Moriarty chuckled all of a sudden, laying one hand on Sherlocks Shoulder.  
"Ah, Sherlock. I really missed this. You being all concerned about some mundane human, it never fails to amuse me. It makes you look so weak and pathetic. Don't you see how he has changed you?" Sherlock was not pushing John lightly away from Moriarty, standing in front of him, demanding the space, and brushing Moriarty's hand from his shoulder.  
"Yes. He made me see what's really important, but you wouldn't have any idea about that, cause you are a lonely, bitter and a sad human being." Moriarty smirked and pursed his lips, really enjoying having Sherlock so close to him now.  
"That's where you are wrong Sherlock." Sherlock furrowed a brow in confusion.  
"I am not lonely or sad. Maybe I am slightly bitter, but what the hell..." He glanced for a second at John who stood quite helplessly next to the two of them.  
"I was destined to change the order of this country. I am a genius with gifts and skills beyond anyone's belief. You thought you defeated me on that day at the rooftop, but in reality, you had no idea what was coming..." Jim started to circle around him in slow movements shifting his eyes all the time to John. Grinning like a Cheshire cat.  
"I control the highest criminals in the land, but I also control the most intelligent ones. I don't take anyone. That's how I learned to survive and secure my power. Control is my job. That means controlling my company, which you deduced as living a life in isolation. Far from it. I am thriving in good company." John was aware of how Sherlock became more agitated as Moriarty was circling around him. He could see his hand twitching.   
"So you see. I grave company, especially the most exceptional ones." Moriarty stopped in front of Sherlock's face and brushing one finger over his cheeks, which Sherlock made immediately draw back from him.   
"Don't touch him." John's voice rang through the room and just received one of those arrogant grins that so much resembled Victor's.   
"Don't worry. John Watson. I won't lay a hand on Sherlock Holmes until I am not fully certain that he's loyal to me." A shiver ran down John's and Sherlock's back, just to hear those words.   
"You are mad." Sherlock was drawing back completely now, walking across the room, trying to clear his head. John again stood just helplessly in the center.  
"touchy subject it is, but it is the truth. In a mere few minutes, I will execute my plan in securing the loyalty of the only person that ever resisted me." Sherlock didn't want to listen to this anymore. He was a pawn, a simple plaything, and he couldn't control anything. Not when his arch enemy was controlling him.  
"What does that mean." John at least tried to still engage and getting more information as difficult as it was to hear. Moriarty made his way to the decanter, almost similarly to Victor. Those two resembled each other in a way that was shocking.  
"meaning Sherlock won't have any choice than to surrender. You two are in my headquarters, In my world and in this world I call the shots. I mean you two can't really complain. I gave you enough time to say goodbye to each other." John was shaking his head, trying to compose himself. Trying not to crumble to pieces.  
"No. You didn't do that out of decency, you did it to torture us. To rip us apart when we only found each other." John spat through his teeth while Jim was nodding slightly.  
"Yeah, yeah. What can I say? I've always been warning the two of you that it will come down to this. All those years ago at the pool, I was telling Sherlock that I will eventually burn his heart out, and today is that day. You two have been wasting all those years. And for what? For nothing really. It's really tragic and stupid. If you think about it now." John was burying his hands in his hair in frustration, tears threating to spill over. He could feel his body crumble and his heart gave out.  
"You are sick." He spat at Moriarty who was walking up to John, grabbing him by his throat. All of a sudden Sherlock was alert than ever trying to his best to stay calm but interrupt Moriarty pulling a gun from his back pocket holding it onto John's throat.  
"nanana, Sherlock, don't make any attempts to move here." He giggled and John was trying to pull himself up, trying to turn himself to Sherlock, to see his face. Sherlock's whole being crumbled to the floor. Defeated by what happened in front of him.   
"What can I do,....please, I just want you to stop this. Stop all of this." Moriarty had John in a tight grip who was struggling for air and trying with his hands to lose Moriarty's tight grip. The cold gun on his throat made no difference to him. He would not survive this day anyway, he just wanted to see Sherlock's face. That was his only wish. To see that face before he died.   
"Don't worry my darling. This will all be over soon." His smirk appearing again while John was really struggling for air now, making all kinds of noises. Sherlock was on the floor, on his knees. Ready to beg. Ready to do anything.   
"PLEASE." He pleaded again and again while John was still trying to pull his head towards him with no success.  
"Bring her in," Moriarty said with a bit of a different tone in his voice. 

More stern and in no less than a minute Victor, Mary and Alex were storming through the door, positioning themselves in the room and Moriarty finally loosened his grip on John's throat and let him breathe properly still fixing the gun to his heart though. Sherlock still being on the floor, was suddenly surrounded by all of these people. Moriarty's people and he tried to avoid Victor's intense stare that was immediately on him, and just him.   
"Finally. You are all here." Moriarty opened switching glances with Mary and Victor, notifying them of the next moves. It seemed all very choreographed and Sherlock's head was spinning again. This seemed like the end. Like a force stronger than the both of them. Stronger than anything anyone could ever handle. John blinked and his first instinct was immediately turning to Sherlock who was crouched on the floor. He didn't even think twice about it and couldn't care less of the gun, but as soon as Moriarty pulled his hand away, John was next to Sherlock on the floor, encircling his face with his hands, checking if he was ok.  
"Sherlock. Hey. I'm ok." His tears now spilling because both of them knew that they were basically screwed.  
"Hey, I didn't tell you to move. Dr." Moriarty shouted, narrowing his gun to the both of them on the ground, but no reaction came it was like the two of them were in their own secret world.  
"I'm ok. Are you ok?" Sherlock's tears were spilling uncontrollably now as well, encircling John's face frantically, stroking his cheeks, checking for any injuries on his neck.  
"Yes. Don't forget what we were talking about. ok. please, you need to promise me." John was whispering now more or less, brushing through those curls. Sherlock was nodding but he felt like his heart was ripped out by doing that. As much as he tried to deny it, John was saying goodbye. He has been saying goodbye to him since yesterday.   
"ENOUGH." Moriarty's voice was ringing through the room, startling everyone. With one single look to Mary and Victor again, John and Sherlock have pulled apart violently. Victor had John in a tight grip while Mary was pulling a chair to the center where John was pushed into by Victor, starting to chain his arms and legs together.   
"NO." Sherlock was screaming in agony, pushing himself off the floor, running behind Victor, but he was pulled back by Alex, holding him in one of her special little grips that would bring any titan down. Sherlock was screaming now more frantically and in pain. His eyes were puffy and red, his face tear-stricken.   
"Nanana, Sherlock, such a drama queen, is that really necessary," Moriarty remarked earning a smile from Victor who was eagerly working on the chains.  
"I told you. He loves to be dramatic." Victor looked down at John, who got surprisingly calm, looking up at Victor with an intense glare.  
"So here we are Dr. Watson. I had a feeling it would come down to this."   
"Save you breaths and just let's get it over with." Victor smiled looking at Mary who was standing next to them, sternly, without a little flicker.  
"oh la la, someone is eager to die today. I have to say you are brave than I thought." Victor's smug smile plastered on his face. John could see that he was most definitely enjoying himself. Sherlock's screams were neverending.  
"Could someone please take care of this noise. It's really irritating, we are trying to work here." Victor mockingly said, glancing over at Alex and Sherlock, who was looking back in full rage. The next thing he knew was Alex plastering a tape over his mouth, making his screams die down.   
"Thank you, Alex, much better.Now..." Victor began while Moriarty made himself comfortable on the couch. He looked calm and collected like he has done this more than he could count by now. It was like he enjoyed a piece of entertainment. His puppets were working on achieving his goals.   
"...Let me explain to you what is going to happen Dr. Watson..." Victor crouched to his level, looking John straight in the eye.  
"Your lovely wife next to me has got a lot of tools with her today, which she's going to use on you. As far as I am concerned she can't wait to get started." That Smug smile right on his face, John couldn't hold back and spit in Victor's face. Immediately Victor was taking aback and his rage was kicking in, punching the soldier in the face. Mary was dropping her gaze.   
"You sneaky little bastard. I wish I could kill you myself." He shouted and saw the blood dripping down John's mouth and cheek. John didn't feel the pain immediately. All he felt was emptiness. Sherlock was becoming uncontrollable at this point and Alex had a hard time keeping him in place, so she pulled her gun and reached over to rest it on his neck. With no results. Sherlock didn't really seem to care about dying at all. He was uncontrollably ripping at her special grip, kicking at her and successfully getting her off of her, so much so he was kicking Alex out of the way and stripping himself free of her grip.


	25. Rush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is another side to the detective. A different side John hasn't seen before. Is Sherlock going to make the ultimate sacrifice? 
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter again but is building towards a climax scene.

Alex was falling backward as she caught herself last minute with her hands. Sherlock was running towards Victor in a swift minute grabbing him by the collar immediately, tackling him to the ground. Everyone seemed startled and absolutely not prepared for that kind of outburst and moreover Alex wasn't supposed to get outsmarted by Sherlock Holmes. Victor was screaming out in pain falling to the floor with Sherlock on top of him who was starting to punch him viciously. John didn't really have time to think about what has just happened but he ripped at his chains and figured out quickly that there was no point in trying. The chains were unbreakable and heavy and he would need the key to the locks to set himself free. 

"Sherlock. Sherlock." John was shouting the minute Sherlock started to punch Victor in his face. Victor was screaming, trying to pull Sherlock off of him put nobody seemed to pull Sherlock away. Moriarty was just smiling to himself, covering his mouth slightly.  
"Get him off of me." He demanded as Mary was pulling one of her knifes from one of the briefcases that have been brought in that was sitting on the left side table and made her way to John, calmly pulling his hair back at the hem of his back, looking him straight in the eyes, pointing the long knife at this carotid artery. She was pulling with force and John had to restrain himself not to cry out in pain. He just looked coldly towards those green-blue eyes that belonged to his former wife. Technically she still was on paper, but that started to be just a faded memory. John was trying his hardest not to give her any satisfaction in showing her how much he struggled. But was she really looking for that? He had no idea any longer. He never knew her really. She was just another psycho added to the list of psychos he's met so far.   
"Struggling much." Mary's brow lifted and John made a crunching sound with his teeth as she started to pull stronger and stronger on his short hair. It was painful and John refused to answer her.   
"Your boyfriend might get himself into trouble here." Her voice was hardly audible now but earned a glare from Jim Moriarty himself who still looked more amused than ever watching how Sherlock was outbursting in rage, punching uncontrollably in Victor's face, who was now bleeding from the left side of his mouth and brow. Victor had absolutely no chance of defending himself. It was astounding with what power Sherlock was able to land those blows and how little Victor was able to fight back.   
"I'm afraid he will, Rose." He answered her and stood from the sofa.  
One precise shot to the wall from Moriarty's gun was enough to let Sherlock stop in his movements and tracks, he looked up towards Moriarty and the people around him, his eyes searching for John, hoping that this bullet was not meant for him. His face was wild and John had never seen him like this. He looked like an animal, like someone who was capable of anything and John was concerned. He was really concerned because he didn't want Sherlock to go to that point for him. The point of no return. The point that he spoke about, turning into someone that he didn't know. Someone that Victor has triggered so many times in the past. He just hoped Sherlock wouldn't forget what John and he were discussing yesterday. The promise he made to him. To stay alive and sane, to take care of his daughter and everyone else who would stay behind. To fight to survive. John's heart was sinking slowly as he looked at the sight of Sherlock.   
"Stand up," Moriarty said calmly and Sherlock trembled looking back and forth at Moriarty, John and occasionally to Victor who was lying quite defeated on the ground, shouting in agony. 

Sherlock was standing up slowly with Moriarty scanning his every move. Alex was not really moving from her spot after Sherlock had let himself free of her grip, she knew, she would pay for this at some point. There were no mistakes allowed at all times when you were working for Moriarty.   
"Good. Now, are we calm." Moriarty asked lightly keeping his eyes fixed on Sherlock who was stepping away from Victor who seemed to nurse his lips and brow, looking up at Sherlock in pure rage.   
"I will kill your precious little Dr. now as painfully and slowly as possible." He whispered, the rage threatening to spill over, his teeth clenching. The blonde man with the steel eyes was feeling his heart beating faster. His eyes were full or rage, yes, but there also held something else. Something that Sherlock couldn't see.   
"I will kill you first," Sherlock answered and earned again an amused chuckle from Moriarty who was lowering his gun, walking over towards the detective.   
"You know that this is a dead end, don't you. That's why you are lashing out. There is no escape for you and apparently the person you would die for. We all know that and we are prepared, except Alex apparently..." Jim was looking over to the corner at the black haired operator and she was lowering her gaze. Moriarty knew how she would pay for this, but first, he had to get back control of the room again. Sherlock was a Spitfire, someone who would go to great length to save the people he loved. Moriarty knew that first hand, having had to fake his death and literally drive his network into the ground to defeat the one and only consulting detective. This time around though, things would go differently.   
"You are a volcano, Sherlock Holmes. You always were. As much as you tried to pretend that you were the ice cold, unfeeling shell of a man, you were always quite the opposite. It is intriguing, I must say..." Sherlock was done with this. He needed to try. He had to, so he was interrupting him, pulling at Moriarty's shoulders.  
"Please. Just please, I know you want to hurt me by killing him, but I beg you please don't do this. Please let him run free and you will have my total loyalty, my total obedience. I will forever be in your service if you just let him go." His tears were rushing down, his gaze was fixed and his body was trembling uncontrollably. Jim was dropping his gaze for a second, taking in the feel of Sherlock's warm hands on his shoulders, before a smile cracked at his lips.   
"Wow. This love you have for him really seems beyond compare. Your whole being is consumed by this love. It's breaking you into pieces." Moriarty's hand was reaching towards Sherlock's chin, holding it tightly, looking at the face of an angel. Sherlock shivering and trying to shake his head, but there was no use, Moriarty's grip on his chin was tight.   
"I need to set you free my love. You won't be of any use to me being so controlled by another human being. Especially by such a mundane one." John was feeling the blade more strongly now, avoiding to look at his former love. He was not interested, not afraid of dying. He just wanted Sherlock to be safe. After everything that has happened in the last days, he still had a glimmer of hope left that they would actually be able to make it out together. 

"Let me kill him, Jim. Rose won't have the stomach to do it. I see her tremble already. Let me kill him, and this will be finally over for good." Victor was pulling his upper body up from the floor, leaning against one of the couches, trying his best to wipe off the blood from his face. Mary was flinching a bit, while she tried to concentrate on her task to look as convincing as possible.   
"No. Please. I beg you....I..." Moriarty interrupted Sherlock with a hysterical laugh.  
"Are you actually serious. You want me to let him go after everything he witnessed, after everything he's seen." John was narrowing his eyes.   
"You're a genius Sherlock, that's partly why you are here. So don't play me for a fool. You know better than to actually believe that there's still room for negotiating" Victor was now hurling himself up from the floor, wiping his swollen face with a towel. His features were unharmed, but he looked truly and well beaten up by the one person he couldn't punch back. He was able in the past. He had been able to actually psychically hurt William, but now he felt incapable of punching back. What was wrong with him?  
"Your boyfriend is going to pay for this." Victor's voice was harsh and he pointed at his face, trying to get Sherlock's attention, which seemed useless cause Sherlock focus was completely on Moriarty.   
"I do anything. I will." Moriarty's voice needed at Sherlock's ear now, as he was coming closer to lean on his ear, his other hand still gripping his chin.   
"What do you think you can offer me, that I won't be able to take from you by sheer force of will." Moriarty's voice came low and deep and he looked over Sherlock's shoulder towards John who's head was pulled up by Mary. John tried to turn his head but there was no use. Her grip was firm. He looked at Moriarty in disgust.   
Sherlock's head was sinking a little but he was unable to move it, as Moriarty's fingers were digging at his chin. He hated himself for going there, but it was maybe the only card he could play, too get his attention. The only card he had left to play.  
"My brother. I know you still working on that. Been for years, haven't you, but he always outsmarted you." Moriarty's face was sizzling and he immediately turned his head towards Sherlock by the mention of the older Holmes brother and he had a big fat smile on his face.   
"Mycroft Holmes. You want to tell me you're prepared to betray your own brother for the sake of saving John Watson's life." His voice couldn't sound more exciting. Victor was looking confused towards Alex and Mary. He felt like he lost complete control of the situation. He was meant to be in charge with Moriarty, but here he stood beaten up next to the man that was calling the shots.   
Sherlock cleared his throat as silent tears continue to spill down his cheeks. His body was shaking now by the confession that he made.  
"Yes, I am"


	26. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The big turning point is happening in this chapter, which again leads to another set of all sorts of trouble and change in dynamics for the main characters.
> 
> Mycroft Holmes has a looming presence within that plotline and which will feed into the next couple of chapters.

The sweat from John's forehead trickled down over his cheeks and his eyes so that his eyes started to sting. He had trouble keeping them open as Mary was now more forcefully pulling at his hair, the blade slowly grazing over the artery. He wanted to scream out so badly, but he couldn't. his pride wouldn't let him.   
"Sherlock, don't do this. Please. Don't do this." His voice was hardly audible and came out in chocking breaths as John was still trying to get a glance at the man he loved more than words could explain. Sherlock's body was shivering and he had a hard time concentrating. His thoughts were running at super speed, picturing Mycroft frantically at running around in his office, chasing his staff around and driving Greg Lestrade completely mad. He knew his brother was completely in charge of MI5's efforts to bring him back home. He knew his brother wasn't wasting any time, but rather that he had hit a dead end exhausted all his powers to find a way to bring him back. Without a clue, a sheer sign of life there was not a single thing his brother could do to find him.   
"Were having a deal, or not," Sherlock spoke without thinking. There was no more thinking involved if this blade was pressed any further into John's neck. Moriarty was holding up his arms in a dramatic gesture.  
"Hold up, have I said anything about a deal. There's no deal that will ever satisfy me." Sherlock's eyes were empty.   
"I don't care. You want to tell me that you'd rather lose out on two Holmes brothers just in order to be able to kill John Watson." Moriarty was dropping his hands to his sides, a twinkle in his eyes while he made short eye contact with Victor who seemed to still nurse his bleeding cuts.   
"A very fair point to raise. You delivering me Mycroft Holmes himself on a silver plater. You do forget a small detail though on your very generous offer." One hand sliding down his suit jacket. Moriarty was enjoying this little meeting to the fullest, while he walked slowly towards the detective, letting his eyes wander over his lean body.   
"What." Sherlock's eyes were squinted and puffy. He looked like he'd gone through hell, which he did. He would go even further than that if it were required.   
"I no longer care about Mycroft Holmes and MI5. It's tedious, boring even. Been there, done that sorta thing." He half smiled while brushing over Sherlock's lips, which Sherlock pulled away from, turning his head to the left.  
"You're lying." Was all that Sherlock was left to say, cause he was backed into a corner. Moriarty dropped his hand and looked over at Victor who ruffled himself up, taking strides towards Mary and John.  
"It doesn't really matter, does it. You have played your last card and I am getting quite impatient. So let's get it over with." Sherlock, immediately panicked again, pulling frantically at James Moriarty's arm.  
"No, No. please." He began shouting again as Victor was making his way towards the doctor and his wife, attempting to push Mary out of the way, which the blonde woman had anticipated. With one swift movement, Mary pulled the blade away from John's neck and stuck it right into Victor's shoulder, who was coming onto them with inhuman tempo, ready to plunge that knife into Doctor Watson's neck. There's was no immediate sound before a screeching sound was ringing throughout the room and Victor falling to his knees, holding the knife that was stuck in his left shoulder. Mary reacted immediately, pulling her gun from her back pocket pointing it towards Moriarty who equally seemed taken aback by what just happened. Everything happened so quickly, John didn't have time to be shocked or surprised, he just reacted and looked up to Mary who was pointing her gun in Moriarty and Sherlock's direction and at the same time pulling keys out of her other pocket and dropping them into John's hands. 

Even though that hasn't been part of his plan, Moriarty still seemed more than relaxed and started to chuckle, turning into Mary's direction while Victor was now dropping from his knees, towards the floor in an attempt to pull out that knife from his shoulder.  
"So many people to kill today." He glanced over at the best assassin of his team, who was stat fast on her gun. She knew that Moriarty knew better than to mess with her when she had that gun in her hands. Afterall, she remained the best kill shot of the organization. Sherlock was shocked and couldn't believe what unfolded in front of his eyes as John was frantically at work freeing himself from the chains around his wrist and ankles.   
"Exactly," Mary replied to Moriarty's remark as nonchalant as possible. Sherlock was pulling away from Moriarty who really regretted to not have his gun ready in his grip. He knew that the minute he would pull behind to grab it, she wouldn't hesitate to shot. Mary was quick and brilliant at distances, so he knew he had to play it cool.  
"What next, Rosemund. Is that the revenge for not letting you play with the big boys." Moriarty said mockingly and for the first time, Mary actually seemed to form a grin on her lips.  
"Did you really believe I would abandon my daughter." She gritted her teeth while John was now completely unchained and couldn't get out of this chair more quickly if he tried. He looked confused and at the same time, his eyes were fixed on Mary. What the hell did she just do?  
"Oh, so this is about the little abomination that you created without my consent." Moriarty was still without any sign of panic on his face while Sherlock wanted to move as quickly to John's side, but didn't know what Mary was really up to, her gun still pointed in their direction.  
"I don't belong to you anymore, don't you get it. I am my own boss from now." She spat while Sherlock was searching for John's eyes eagerly, but John was just looking at Mary. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.   
"Well. If you say so, then just do what you came here for." Moriarty began to move. He actually took closer steps towards Mary and the gun. What the fuck was going on?

John turned towards Mary now, incredulous.  
"What do you think you're doing" He merely whispered. On which side was Mary right now?   
Mary didn't answer and kept her glare and the gun stat fast on Moriarty.   
Moriarty came closer towards her, he kept her gaze at all times. It was like he was challenging her. Challenging her to shoot.  
"Stop walking" Mary's voice was strong and steady and Moriarty knew in that instance that she was lost. She was utterly lost. His grin became wider and wider.  
"Make me. We both know if you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already." He said casually and stopped in his tracks before the gun could grace his forehead. John and Sherlock finally exchanged looks. John was breathing heavy stepping back from Mary. Sherlock tried to communicate with John to come over to were he stood, but John was transfixed in his disposition. He didn't know how this would play out. The little game that Mary was playing with Moriarty was more than dangerous and he had a feeling that she didn't really know how to play this out before he decided to plunge that knife into Victor. Mary's hands twitched even just for a little, but John knew that Moriarty was right, she would have shot him a long time if she really wanted to.  
"You take away everything from me. You always have. All this time I spend in this organization, all this time I spend with you, craving your approval, your respect was worth nothing in the end cause you were using me like a toy. And now you want to take away my daughter too. Did you actually believe I was ever capable of leaving her behind." He was just nudging his shoulder while he waited for Mary to completely crack, but she didn't. She didn't even bat an eye telling him that right to his face.   
"What are you waiting for, Rose. You made your point. So Come on, do it. Pull that trigger. We both know you desperately want to" Moriarty's voice was so calm and content. Sherlock was edging towards slowly walking to John. He just wanted to physically have John by his side.   
"Shoot him. Do it." Sherlock's voice was evenly calm talking to Mary. Sherlock's eyes dropped to Victor for a second who became strangely quiet. He was once again lying defeated on the ground, the knife successfully plucked out from his shoulder. He was crouching now, almost weeping as the blood came pooled down his expensive suite. For a split second, Sherlock pitied the man that he knew so well. He looked so pathetic now, being the weakest link of the three of them. Mary, on the other hand, was now in charge of the room, the questioned remained, how was she using this to her advantage?  
"Shoot me, Rose." Moriarty's voice came in a whisper as Mary's hands were trembling again. She didn't reply, just looking at him in a non-definable way. John knew that at this point as well, that Mary wasn't going to shoot. Something was holding her back. Something rooted very deep. Moriarty chuckled to himself.  
"You are adorable my love. You really are one of a kind. You won't shoot because you and I both know that I am the reason you are still alive. The reason why you became who you are. I took you in, poor, lonely, American girl and you followed me every will, you know why because you love me. You always loved me more than you want to admit. More than your silly little adventure into domestic family life. More than your own little abomination of a child. You love me like no one else, and you always will, and that is your biggest flaw, your biggest weakness, cause as we all know. Caring is not an advantage, Rose." He saw the twitch of her finger and Mary slightly lowered the gun, as her face became paler and her breathing quickened.   
"Mary, don't" John just wanted to grab that gun himself and shoot that bullet through Moriarty's brain.   
"No no no. My dear doctor Watson. Your wife knows exactly what she's doing. She knows that I won't be cross with her for what she did, because I am capable of forgiving her." John shook his head vehemently, trying to get Mary's attention, while she was transfixed on Moriarty.  
"No, don't listen to him. He's manipulating you, He's just saying these things to confuse you. Please, Mary, just shoot him and all this will be over. You will be seeing Charlotte again, ok, I promise you that. If you shoot him, then I will forgive everything you've done, everything. Just don't do this, don't let him win over you." John's voice was breaking. He was utterly terrified of what Mary would do. If she would lower that gun on Moriarty, he would kill all of them, starting with Mary. Mary tried to concentrate on John's words next to her, but she couldn't her whole body froze just looked at Moriarty, because he was right. Before John, before Charlotte, before everything, there has always been James Moriarty.   
Sherlock was absolutely flabbergasted. He felt like he wasn't in the room any longer. John being so attentive with Mary talking about Charlotte. His brain knew obviously that John was doing the right thing trying to talk some sense into the blonde assassin, but a part of him was utterly jealous just seeing them being so intimate together. The way John talked to her was rubbing him up the wrong way.

"You talk a good game Doctor, but you've got no idea about the bond that Mary and I share. That bond is unbreakable." Moriarty just remarked and sensed the female presence in the room. Someone they might have forgotten about. Sherlock was searching again for John's eyes but they never looked back. What was happening?   
"Don't listen to him. For all our sakes. Just pull that trigger and we can leave this place altogether." Mary tilted her head a bit, the first sign that John's words actually came through.  
"Altogether. You mean you and him, don't you. That's all you care about." John was so taken aback by her words, he just replied without thinking.  
"No, no. We can leave together. The three of us." John's voice was loud and demanding.   
"You say that, but it's just always going to be the two of you. you and him. Instead, it should have been me and you and Charlotte." Moriarty was smiling. He got exactly what he wanted. Mary showed her feelings. Sherlock couldn't believe what was unfolding in front of him.  
"Mary, please. This is not the right time to talk about this." He tried.  
"It's never going to be the right time, John. You chose him over me from the start, you always have, really. I was just a seat filler for him while you were probably wanking off late at night in the bathroom thinking about him." Moriarty silently nodding his head to Mary's comment while Mary's eyes were still on Moriarty but she could feel herself lose control of the situation. John got more and more frustrated with the situation. Mary didn't seem sure on which side she really was.   
"What are you talking about. this is not about that. This is about getting your life back. Do you really want to remain to be his minion? He is using you, and you fall for it..." Mary interrupted him swiftly.  
"Like I fell for you. Like You were using me. To get over Sherlock Holmes. You're not better than him John. None of you is." John was brushing his hand through his face never leaving Mary's side. This seemed like a pointless exercise if she was just going to shut him down like this.  
"You can't be serious. I would never do that you. I've always tried to treat you with respect until you decided to betray me. He gave you that job to distract me, so you did, this was never meant to be a real relationship anyway." Mary's eyes were blinking now more and more as tears were welling up.  
"It was real for me." She just said while Sherlock was looking at the two of them across from the room while his heart was beating through his chest.   
"I want it to be real again, John. I want you back." Mary confessed while her tears were running down her cheeks, the gun still steady in her hands. John was dropping his gaze slowly and he sighed. He could play this one way or another.  
"If you really want me back, then show me." Sherlock's eyes were narrowed towards John now and for a moment he believed he misheard what was being said. Maybe he started to hallucinate at this point. Nevertheless, he felt his heart sinking. That couldn't be real. Mary was shaking while her gaze now turned towards John, who was so close to her face, looking her straight in the eyes, so warm and so comforting. John smiled slowly.   
"What are you saying." Her words were hardly audible.  
"I'm saying. If you really want me back, then kill him. Show me how serious you are. How much and how far you would go in order to be with me."


	27. Standoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty has a way with words, while Mary is determined to get her life back. John and Sherlock's destiny is not there's to determine anymore.

Sherlock promised himself when he was very little that he would never open up his heart to anyone cause when Mycroft was talking about how he shouldn't ever get too attached to people, things, animals, anything that existed really because caring and feelings always ended up in disappointment and pain because people were doomed to hurt each other, he was actually always right. Mycroft remained to be right until the day he met John Watson. The army soldier, the man who had the power to literally save lives. The man he had fallen crazy in love with. The man he thought he could never live without and who currently seemed to turn out as the greatest disappointment of Sherlock's life if there would not be the overarching feeling that John was planning something. Though, maybe Mycroft was the only human being he could ever trust completely after all. 

"Are you being honest." Sherlock could make out that Mary's mouth was moving but everything felt like he was in a daze where he was threatening to fall unconscious at any moment. He didn't want to believe that John was actually honest, that he had been playing with his heart and mind for the entire night they spent together in this very room.  
"I am." Mary frowned and squinted her eyes, while John still avoided Sherlock's gaze from across the room. Sherlock didn't even dear to come over at this point in time. His whole body shook.   
"You really want to tell me, that there's a chance for us to be together again, after everything that has happened." He swallowed and Mary was hesitant, her hands trembling and the gun shaking slightly. Moriarty was eyeing his gaze towards the other female presence in the room.   
"Yes. Just please, put a bullet through that basterds brain and we can move on." There was a split second where Mary actually looked genuine and loving. Sherlock could see that. He could see the pure love that was behind those eyes. Mary hovered, narrowing her towards John. His body was turned towards her, shielding his view towards Sherlock, who looked utterly defeated. One part of him wanted to think that John just played around, feeding her the words she so desperately wanted to hear, but how cruel can he be. It made sense if they actually wanted to have a shot at surviving but Mary was way too clever to fall for that if he really played her for a fool. Moriarty laughed a bit now before the laughter became stronger just looking at the two of them.  
"You two are really entertaining, I have to admit. Doctor Watson, do you really believe our best-trained assassin would actually fall for such a well thought out lie. After everything Rose, you should know that he would promise you the world if it means that Sherlock Holmes would be safe and dry and back at Baker Street." John looked swiftly towards Moriarty and back towards Mary.   
"Just don't listen to him." Mary was fibbing and navigated her gaze back to Moriarty.  
"But he's right, isn't he. That's exactly what you're doing. Just empty words in order to make me dance to your little tune. To save him again, the man who is responsible for everything bad that ever happened to us as a family." She clenched her teeth looking past Moriarty towards Sherlock who looked still lost and confused.   
"If you're really so eager then prove to me that you are being honest." John was starting to get impatient now. He couldn't believe that Mary has gone through all that, just to be stuck in this situation with him, holding Moriarty at gunpoint and not doing anything about it.   
"What do you mean." Sherlock swallowed. He didn't want to witness any of this anymore. He just wanted John to stop this and come over to where he stood. Be physically there for him.   
"Prove to me that you want to be with me and that you don't want him." Mary's words were clear and sharp and John was standing there with no words to say. He wasn't really prepared for any of this. He was rolling with the punches, and Mary caught him off guard. He could feel Sherlock's eyes burning a hole in his back.  
"I don't know how." 

He answered carefully as Sherlock was trying to make a few steps towards them but was pulled back by someone behind him and all of a sudden he could feel two strong hands encircling his throat and cold metal at the back of his head.   
"Drop the gun!" Female voice. Black hair. Moriarty grinned and looked at John and Mary's confusing faces.   
"What the hell..." Sherlock was trying to free himself of the strong grip, Alex had on him but couldn't quite comprehend how he could have been so careless with Alex standing behind him this whole time apparently with a gun in her pocket. Duh. He should have been more careful. John was willing and his focus shifted immediately from Mary to Sherlock. His eyes wide and his first instinct was to take a step into Sherlock's and Alex's direction.  
"One false move, doctor and I will decorate these walls with his brain." John was starting to panic, his heart rate picking up as Sherlock's and his eyes met, trying to communicate what to do. There was nothing in John's eyes except sheer panic. His movements went to a halt and he looked at Mary and Sherlock trying to figure out the next move.   
"I said drop the gun Mary or I will shoot him" Mary's initial reaction turned into a sharp grin.  
"Do you really believe that Jim would allow for his precious detective to die." Jim huffed immediately, even now stepping closer to the barrel.  
"Yes if it means his life for mine, I would gladly let Sherlock Holmes die." She had to give it to Moriarty, he always had his priorities straight. Him before anyone else. The Egomaniac par example.   
"His life means nothing compared to mine, but go ahead Rose, call my bluff, see if I am right." Mary's finger hovered over the trigger with John breathing heavier than ever. This situation began to completely escalate. That's not how it was supposed to go.   
"Don't kill him, Mary. Just let us all calm down." John tried and earned an annoying glare from his former life partner.   
"Of course. You want to be with me, nothing is still more important to you than the life of Sherlock Holmes." She spat out letting her finger tremble again.  
"You kill Moriarty, I won't hesitate to kill Sherlock. Just so we're clear" Alex now spat out and Sherlock wasn't really fighting her grip any longer. He went very quiet for someone with a gun to his head. He didn't panic, almost surrendered.  
"Mary, if you pull that trigger, the deal is off. " She chuckled at his pathetic attempt to blackmail her.  
"Do you really believe for one second that I fell for your pathetic attempt save his life. Even if you would return to me, things would never be the same again. Sherlock Holmes made sure of that." John was fuming inside. He couldn't take to see that gun Sherlock's head any minute longer. His sole priority was focused on getting him out of the fireline.   
"You will have to live with that. There's no turning back from that. Just drop the gun for god's sakes." He shouted, getting more and more agitated. Moriarty was looking behind his shoulder to Sherlock, who looked into space, he's gone quiet, didn't utter a single word. A quick glance at Aland a nod of approval before he turned his head towards Rosemund again, looking to the barrel, letting out a long breath, contesting before he claps his hands together.  
"Right. I made a decision, cause you left me without a choice, Rose. I know how desperate you get your dear doctor back, so I am willing to make another deal with you." John and Mary were looking at him incredulous and dumbfounded.   
"The only way we can fix this situation is if I let the two of you go, cause that's really you want Rose, although you're saying the opposite. Truth is as you said, I lost your loyalty and trust the minute you decided to carry his disgusting little abomination in your belly." Moriarty's words came in harsh sounds and he spat words at her.   
"I'm willing to let Doctor Watson go, if you drop your gun Rose, you and he have my permission to leave the base and never come back." Sherlock's eyes were returning to the situation in front of him and his heart made a leap. Moriarty's words were everything he ever wanted to hear. John was dropping his head a slightly, smiling sarcastically.   
"You want something in return, I reckon." It didn't really sink in for him, that Moriarty was just agreeing to let him go. Mary still adapt to the trigger.   
"Nothing. I just want you to leave and never return again." Mary shook her head slightly. Moriarty was actually letting her go, after all this time, she was actually on the brink of freedom. She would be able to hold her baby daughter in her arms again, leading her own life away from this dark organization.  
"I'm not going anywhere without him." John was stepping closer to Moriarty now, looking him straight in the eyes while Moriarty held his gaze.   
"Ah, You're so predictable, Doctor Watson." John was looking across the room to Sherlock.   
"John, Don't please. Just Go." Sherlock outed shouted at him furiously. Could John just listen to him for once in his life? John didn't reply and focused on Moriarty.  
"Sherlock will stay with us of course. Don't take my courtesy of sparing your life for granted. Sherlock was never meant to leave in the first place, he belongs to the organization now. To me" He finished with a wide grin. John kept his gaze steady, the determination in his eyes, desperation creepy behind.  
"I won't leave him behind. No chance in hell. Mary was getting impatient and started to step back a little, giving Moriarty and her still husband more space.  
"You really start to annoy me now Doctor. I think I've been more than gracious and patient with the two or should I say with the three of you. If you don't take up my offer I am afraid that no one in this room is going to make it out alive. I've got my people positioned everywhere inside and around the base. The minute you shoot me, they will know, and they will shot you immediately once you step outside this very room." Rose grinned. Moriarty and his lovely threat speeches.  
"How would they know you're dead." John narrowed his eyes, while Moriarty flung his hands in the air.  
"I've got cameras everywhere as you might have noticed." There it was. The big opener to a situation that seemed indeed hopeless to find a solution for. The only thing left to do for Mary certainly was to agree to the deal and earn her freedom.   
"Agreed." Her voice ringing through the room. 

"I am willing to drop my gun, if I have your word, you will let us go."


	28. Ten Seconds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty is giving them no time to say goodbye. What choice is left for John to make? 
> 
> One of the shorter chapters as it signifies how quickly this moment is played out.

Her eyes were transfixed on the "one and only" James Moriarty. The greatest criminal mastermind the world has ever seen. For a second her gaze dropped to the floor where Victor was lying motionless, his hand on his shoulder and seemingly unconscious without anyone giving two cents about his wellbeing. Mary definitely didn't. She became unattached to the man she once treated like a brother. Victor, who for all this time acted like he was superior to her. Guess who was superior now, guess who held all the strings in her hands, even Moriarty, cause he acted out of fear that she really was about to pull that trigger on him.  
"I need your word, Jim. John and I are free to go." He looked at her with a glimmer of astonishment in his eyes but nodded.   
"You have my word, Rose. Nobody will stop you, I'll make sure of that." John was reaching forward to where Sherlock was held tightly by Alex. She was gripping his throat now, pressuring the gun to his head.  
"You go, I will stay behind." Every muscle in his face was twitching in fear. He was terrified and desperate, while Sherlock was trying to hold his gaze, looking at him in absolute disbelief.  
"John, Don't be an idiot." Sherlock was gritting through his teeth.   
"Please, Just go." He demanded more forcefully now, but John was shaking his head, tears welling up in his eyes.   
"We don't have a deal if just one of you leaves." Moriarty didn't fail to mention and Mary was looking at him and narrowing her gun a little.   
"Don't worry, we will go together." She ensured while John was moving his head slightly towards them, his body shaking.  
"No. You go without me." Mary was getting more agitated now, she was becoming more than impatient with John's idiotic antics.  
"Seriously. Are you that delusional. You rather stay and die than be with your daughter." John nodded his head slightly.  
"I can't leave him behind, I just can't. You take care of Charlotte for me, okay. I trust you won't harm her in any way." Mary's eyes were wide at this point, looking at Jim and her husband.  
"You can scratch that. You will come with me. You owe that to your daughter. If you have any ounce of decency left, you won't let your daughter down, because of,....because of..." She didn't really want to say it, believe it, make it real.   
"because of what Mary? because I am not able to leave the love of my life behind." Mary's eyes were glazing now, tears welling up in her eyes as well, but it was more out of frustration. Simple an utter frustration.   
"I love Charlotte more than anything and I desperately want to get back to her, but not as this broken man. Not as the man I am without him" There were words at the tip of her tongue which she immediately swallowed.   
"You won't have another chance to get back to her again. If you don't come with me now, you will die. He's going to kill you swiftly in front of Sherlock's eyes. Do you really want to let him go through this." There she was again. The manipulating Mary, the one that knew how to feed words to people, the one that had a point. John was turning towards Sherlock, who kept silent but he could see the absolute approval in his eyes. The yearning stare for him to leave. That's all he wanted.

"This offer is not going to last forever, Doctor Watson. Either you go now, or never." Jim said annoyingly and John was trying to figure out what to do. He was so sure that he wouldn't survive without Sherlock. He couldn't go through that door.   
"John please. listen to me. It's okay. I am going to be fine. Just please. Go with Mary." John was dropping his gaze. it was to difficult to look Sherlock in the eyes any longer. his heart was sinking, and he felt himself grow weaker. How did he end up here? He felt Mary's hand encircling his, pulling a bit.   
"Please John. Just let us go now." She pressured while the gun in her hand lowered even more. It was clear now, that Jim gave them an approximate time to leave. He seemed sincere in being willing to let them go, but his patience was clearly running thin.  
"just,...I don't even get to say goodbye?" John's tears were falling freely, looking at Sherlock. Moriarty chuckling in amusement next to them.  
"Sure. Why am I not throwing you two a leaving party? Don't try my patience any longer, doctor. If you two are not out of that door in the next ten seconds, then I won't be that forgiving anymore." John shook his head while he could feel Mary pulling at his hand. She had her gun now tightly pocketed in the hem of her trousers and was more than ready to get out of the room.  
"Come on John." She demanded while his eyes went back and forth between Sherlock and them. Sherlock wasn't crying. He knew that it would make this way harder for John if he actually showed how he really felt about seeing him leave. Maybe for forever.  
"John, it will be fine. I'll be fine. Don't worry." He tried to soothe him, to make it easier, to let him know he was going to be okay. Although he didn't know at all. John was making a couple of steps towards him. Alex, therefore, holding a hand up and pushing the gun from Sherlocks back to the forefront of his skull.  
"No further steps doctor. Just do as you told and leave." She remarked with a slight grin and Sherlock was nodding as much as it was possible.  
"I can't.." John was on the verge of breaking down again, as Mary was now strongly pushing him towards the door, succeeding in him moving, while his head was still turned towards Sherlock.   
"Farewell Rose. It has been a pleasure." Jim waved his hand towards her in amusement, as the door clicked open.   
"Sherlock." John was trying again, shouting his name, while it became harder for him to see through these masses of tears.   
"John," Sherlock whispered as his name was rolling from his lips as he saw Mary pulling John out of the door, as John was fighting against her grip but didn't succeed. The door was shut with a loud noise and Sherlock could still hear John's loud cries, crying out his name. Over and over again before they fell silent with greater distance. 

"Thank god this is over." Moriarty's voice was ringing through the room as Alex was pulling away from her gun, pushing Sherlock off of her.   
"yeah finally." She answered as she made her way quickly towards the still unconscious Victor who was laying there, his short blond hair slightly falling over his forehead.  
"I'll bring him to the ward." She suggested and Moriarty didn't even seem to care. He just waved his hand.  
"Do whatever you want with him. I don't have time for failures. He has always been too unhinged, too stubborn for his own good. His attack on Rose started the whole mess. I, for now, couldn't care less what you do with him." Jim spat and looked down at the younger man. Sherlock was standing in the room, lost and broken. He just had to see his love being ripped from him in the most painful manner. He could still hear John's screams. His heartwrenching cries and he fell to his knees. Defeated and utterly exhausted.  
"I want him cleaned up and fed. I think he deserves a rest." Moriarty was still talking to Alex who was heaving Victor up on to her back, more or less dragging him behind him.  
"Will do. I'll take care of everything." Moriarty came closer to Alex brushing one hand over her cheek.  
"Very well, my darling. I am so proud of you. You acted exactly the way I expected. You are on your way to achieving great things, young lady."


	29. Once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter on building bridges between two people who once loved each other. Mary and John come to a new understanding of their circumstances. 
> 
> I try to upload more frequently as this story is still very important to me. I still don't have an exact chapter number in mind, as the story develops organically.

They were walking quicker then his body was allowing it, Mary mainly dragging John behind her, her hands around his wrist, pulling him along the corridor. Mary was doing her best to keep her mind clear and try to find the quickest exit for them, but that wasn't as easy as she expected it to be. She had fuzzy feeling that they might have trouble to exit the base due to Moriarty's men.   
"Please, John. Keep up the tempo. I won't be able to pull you all the way down to the exit with me. Especially not, if Moriarty is making this harder then it needs to be for us." John was hardly with her. He just reacted, letting his body be dragged towards the unknown, towards a life that he didn't want, towards something that he wasn't prepared for.   
"Nobody asked you to do drag me with you." He barely could talk at this point, his face red and puffy from all the crying and shouting. He was utterly broken. This whole experience destroying every single part of his beating heart.   
"Believe it or not, but I want you to be safe. After everything we went through, I want you to save as he wants you to be saved. He made a sacrifice worth taking." All of a sudden, John came to an abrupt halt and stopped in the middle of the corridor, pulling his wrist off of Mary's tight grip.   
"Don't you dare talk about this like you would have any idea about what he did for me. This was not supposed to happen. He was not supposed to sacrifice himself for you or me." John's face took another level of fury and Mary could swear he tried to kill her with his eyes. She had never seen his face like that. Nevertheless, John had a point, Sherlock always ended up being left behind, although this time, he didn't really have a choice in the matter.  
"I'm sorry John, but Sherlock didn't really have a choice in the matter. Moriarty made him stay. But he wouldn't want it any other way, be assured. He would have sacrificed himself for your sake like he did a hundred times over now." She was looking at him with soft eyes, trying to grab his wrist again.   
"Please John. This is not the time. I need to get us out of here." He looked like he would burst out into pure rage any minute.   
"Go on. Leave. You do whatever you want to do." He pulled his hand back yet again, trying to distance himself from her. His head turning red.   
"Can we not do this now, John. I beg you. Just come with me." His eyes were wide.   
"What am I doing for God sakes. I need to get back to him. I can't do this again...I can't leave him like this again." He was turning as Mary was grabbing his wrist tightly, pushing him hard against the wall, so John's breath was caught in his throat, his back aching.   
"You won't go back. They going to shoot you right away. Do you really think this is what Sherlock wants." She became frustrated now with John's utter stupidity.   
"I can't care about that anymore. I am not able to live without him. Moriarty made clear that he's never going to let him go. They own him now. I need to do something. I can't just forget about him. Do you understand that, Mary?" His eyes welling up with tears again, his words spilling out in rage, anger, pain, frustration. Everything really. He was pulling at Mary's grip, but it was no use. She was way more capable than he ever will.   
"Even you who's capable of love should know how that feels like." Mary looked at him. She caught her breath and was looking into those eyes which once held a whole new world for her.   
"I do. Trust me, I know how it feels like." He shook his head abruptly.  
"Do you?."  
"I loved you too. I still do and I can understand you, so I understand Sherlock. You love him as much as I love you." Mary dropped her gaze for a second, composing herself, but didn't spill a tear. She looked back at her husband, a sad smile on her face.  
"I doubt that." He remarked, pulling at her grip again.  
"I exhausted my breath on this for way too long, now. You can either save yourself and have a slim chance of seeing Sherlock again, or you can go back, get yourself killed likely in front of his eyes, and die in vain." She pulled away from John, releasing him.  
"Think about it, John. Can you really do that to him." He was startled and confused. On one hand, Mary was obviously right. He couldn't think straight. It was a suicide mission to try to get back to Sherlock, Moriarty made that very clear. On the other hand, he wasn't able to think rationally when it came to Sherlock. His whole being was concentrated on being as close to him as possible. He was fine yesterday evening to die for this, for their love. But this. This was not what he signed up for. A life without the detective. A life where Sherlock was captured and part of this horrible organization. A life where Victor and Moriarty where ruling over him.   
"I don't know....what to do." He confessed, looking more defeated than ever.   
"Come with me and I promise you we will find a way to save him." He did a double take, brushing his wrist in pain, pulling himself off the wall.   
"Give me any good reason why I should trust you." John and his trust issues, Mary smiled now, genuinely.   
"I am still your wife and I do love you, and your Charlottes father. I know now there's probably never going to be a possibility that you'll come back to me, so I reckon the least I can do for the father of my child is to help save the man he loves. I owe it to Sherlock in a way. To you and him, I guess. I deceived you, while you have been the sole reason for my freedom from the network. I love you John Watson and I will always love you but this isn't my battle to fight any longer." She took a pause, reaching her hand out to him, to brush over his tear-stricken cheek. He swayed a bit, but let Mary touch him.   
"The love you two have....I have never seen anything like it really." John became calmer looking into her eyes.   
"I understand now very clearly that you two belong together." There was nothing he could say to that. Mary was giving away something at this moment, that she didn't want to give away. She has been holding onto this for so long. The idea of having a family. Being the perfect mom. The house. The garden. But in truth, it was never that simple.   
"I appreciate what you're saying, really, I do. I will continue trying to understand us and where we stand. If you're being honest with me now and I have your complete confidence then I will be open to working with you, which still doesn't mean that I trust you. I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust you again." Mary looked shocked. John Watson was actually thinking about giving her a leeway. Maybe a second chance to right her wrongs.   
"That's all I could ask for." She replied genuinely.  
"So, what now. Are you willing to leave this place with me."   
John nodded, making a decision.  
"I am."


	30. Complete Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty executes the next step of his plan!  
> Phillip has been ordered by Moriarty to take Sherlock back to his room. 
> 
> A bit of a delay again on this chapter, but really will try to upload a chapter once a week.

Sherlock was trying his best to keep himself in a fit state. Phillip was grabbing on his arm, although this was not necessary. Sherlock was following him willingly, his body at absolute surrender.   
"Not a word since we left the room. I'm surprised." He chuckled to himself. Sherlock's hands were loose, his whole body was. His mind blank, not knowing what to expect now.   
"What do you want me to say." His words were so silent now, his eyes rooming through the corridor as they arrived at one of the suits again. Sherlock's little cage. He tried to ignore the big stone in his throat. He couldn't speak, didn't want to anymore. Not when his whole world was stopping, when it collapsed like never before right in front of him.  
"You don't need to say anything, Mr. Holmes." Phillipe looked pleased with himself when he opened the door, pushing Sherlock inside.   
"You're all mine now." He added and laughed again. Sinister but not really anything that would make Sherlock feeling scared anymore. What could be more scary and painful than to lose the only person he ever really cared about.   
Phillip was walking slowly around the room.  
"It was bound to happen, though. You know what was coming to you the minute you found yourself chained up in that cell." Sherlock was just exhausted at this point. He lost so much, but he was also able to move past the inevitable and safe John. Well, not him precisely.   
"It's true. I know what was coming and I will do as it is asked of me. Moriarty spared his life..." He took a little pause, earning a confused look from Phillip.   
"Let's not forget that he was held at gunpoint. There was nothing he could have done than to spare the life of your pathetic friend and his pathetic wife, that traitorous bitch." Phillip spat in disgust, preparing himself a drink at the decanter. Sherlock shook his head in disbelief. Was there a fucking decanter in all of those rooms? 

"Anyways, best if you get some rest or if you wish, I can take your mind off things." Sherlock was beginning to feel more agitated by Phillip's presence. Were they all fucking lunatics? Each and every one of them. Sherlock was walking across the room in an attempt to get some more distance between them. The man across from him was tall, slender with sandy hair and green eyes. No less, a beautiful man. Like Victor. All of them really seemed to be blessed by utter perfection. It was like Moriarty was picking his people by the standards of beauty and in fact brains. All intelligent, well-trained and beautiful.  
"No need really. I am fine." Sherlock said quickly and saw the glint in Phillip's eyes. This was harder then he thought possible. They were not only emotionally manipulating him, there was physical abuse to come, judging by Victor's attempt on him already. Phillip seemed to be no different in that department. But why him? Why was Sherlock such a target?   
"Fair enough. I'm sure, you rather wait until Victor will be available again. speaking of Victor, this best will stay between the two us. I don't want to give the wrong impression of stealing his man." Sherlock immediately came to a halt. 

"I am not his man. I don't belong to him." He tried to sound as firm as possible.  
"Well, keep telling this to yourself, but you know as much as everyone that you won't be having a choice in the matter from now on. You sign not only your life away but your soul when you join the network." Phillip was smug, looking at him like he pitied him, but not in a compassionate sort of way.  
Sherlock was not even listening closely anymore, he just had one question in his mind. One question that he already had been given the answer to, but he still couldn't make sense of it.  
"Why me then? Why me when there could be a thousand others of interest." He looked defeated, Phillip could see the days of pain on his face, on his body. The absolute lack of energy.   
"It's you, because of you. You are the only person that ever came close to defeating Moriarty. He made it, cause he had a backup plan, but this plan nearly destroyed the network. This plan was never the choice he wanted to make. Instead, you made that choice for him. You've got no idea what an impact that actually had on us." He explained while swirling his drink, looking at Sherlock.   
"Yeah, I've heard that before," Sherlock said casually, waving his hand, earning yet another smile from Phillip.  
"Well, there's a little more to it than that, but it's not my place to tell you." he finished his drink and sat the glass back on the decanter.  
"why not. it's just the two of us here." Phillip really admired his sharpness and his willingness to still manipulate although being metaphorically beaten and laying on the ground.   
"Yeah, and about four fucking cameras in this room, monitoring every single thing. But fair play, Mr. Holmes for still trying to trick me. I see you haven't lost your touch at all, and you probably never will, even if they will transform you." Phillip immediately bit his tongue. He spoke without even thinking about it.  
"What do you mean?" Sherlock responded as quickly as possible. He had a feeling of what has been said, and the remarks of Victor and Moriarty, that something was about to hit him like never before. Something that will change his trajectory for good. To put the nail in the coffin.  
"Sorry, Mr. Holmes. I shouldn't bother. It's not really my place to tell you this, so I will refrain and hope that Moriarty will forgive the slip of my tongue." 

The moment he said that the next moment the door to the suit flew open, revealing a fully fresh styled Moriarty.   
"Thank you, Phillip. Your service will be no longer needed. You are excused." He began, while Sherlock looked a little confused about the abrupt halt of Moriarty.  
"Of course," Phillipe replied and looked back at Sherlock, who still stood there in his ripped up shirt. His whole attire was quite messed up so was his hair. Phillipe bit his tongue yet again before stepping out of the room leaving Moriarty and Sherlock alone.  
"It's hard to find some peace in this place, I can tell right away." Sherlock opened while Moriarty was grinning and chuckling to himself, making his way to drop himself on the couch.  
"You seem more together than expected just after an hour your precious little companion left. I expected some form of gratitude but surely you know it was not the mercy on my behalf that granted him his freedom." Sherlock brushed his mess of curls back.  
"You should screen your people more carefully, I reckon." He walked slowly towards the couches, deciding against it to sit down and have at least a bit of a rest.   
"Well. Yeah. what can I say? I created a monster against my will. I should have taken her out before it was too late, but despite everything that people say about me, I've tried not giving up on her. She was meant to be my greatest creation, my best assassin, and operator. Instead, she won't be drawing another breath as far as I am concerned. Suffice to say, she won't be around for much longer, I will make sure of that." Sherlock swallowed slowly. Mary was on top of the list it seemed. The list that nobody really wanted to be on.  
"How do you think you'll ever find her." Moriarty waved his hands in the air.  
"Let this be my concern. You will have enough on your plate, darling." His stomach turned a bit by the mentioning of "darling". Moriarty was definitely not shy.  
"Fine. I couldn't care less about her to be honest....as long as he won't be further involved in anything that has to do with this network, you or Victor. I want your complete trust on this." Moriarty again chuckled by the sheer forwardness of Sherlock. He still thought that he had some power here.  
"You are truly one of a kind, Sherlock Holmes. Nobody will ever tell me what to do, is that understood." Sherlock hated to be talked to like that. Like he was a child. But he kind of was now. Completely at Moriarty's mercy.  
"Understood. As long as John Watson is not harmed, I...." There was the first cut.  
"Don't wrinkle your forehead with those frowns. No harm will come to your doctor if he holds his end of the deal and not interfere." Sherlock could feel his heart rising by the sheer relief that John would be fine. He just hoped that he wouldn't seek him out, he hoped John would understand that Sherlock had to save himself now.   
"Still, it surprises me that you are so easily able to neglect Rosamund when she's the reason that John Watson is still alive." Sherlock nodded. It was indeed a good point to raise.   
"I don't neglect her. I just don't trust her. I don't trust anyone from your network. You're right, without her, this wouldn't have been possible and you most likely would have killed him as you planned, and I will be forever grateful to her, which doesn't mean I care about her as a person. She means absolutely nothing to me, especially because she played us all this time." Moriarty nodded understandingly.   
"Point taken. But enough chatter, should we get to the main part of the day?" He clapped his hands together which put Sherlock on immediate alert, before he stood up, and fished a tiny case out his pocket, opening it swiftly and holding what looked like a small tiny white capsule, which looked like a pill in front of his face.  
"What is this." Sherlock breath was stuck in his throat.   
“That my love is the magical thing called the spider drug. You take it, and all of our little problems will disappear.” Sherlock body started to shake. He was afraid. He did not want to let it show but he could not take this any longer. He was beaten. Fully beaten. A slave. Not his own person anymore.  
“that won't answer my question.” He rushed onto the other side of the room, again trying to put distance between him and Moriarty, who seemed the cool incarnation.   
“Why not kill me, Jim? You have beaten me. Granted with very cheap moves but you did, I admit that. But why doing this when you just can get rid of me.” Jim started to grin widely again and making slow strides towards the taller man.   
“Sometimes I really question your brilliance, Sherlock Holmes. Has it not clicked yet, after all this, that it had never been my intention or Victors intention to kill you. If I wanted to I would have done it a long time ago, trust me. Victors intention was to get you back. My intention is to own you.” Sherlock squinted his eyes.  
“like a pet.” Moriarty smiled.  
“Not exactly. You are way more difficult to look after. I know you despise your current situation and us as an organization but it doesn’t have to be that way. You take this pill and all your problems will vanish. You don't even have to think anymore. You will forget your past, the pain, everything. And you will be able to move on” Sherlock looked him dead in the eyes. Those hypnotizing scary dark eyes. Sherlock was afraid. He did not want to forget his past, his life, John. He did not want to take that pill.   
“Move on to where.” Moriarty came closer again, following his every move and clasped one strong hand around Sherlock's neck.   
“Move on within this network. As Victor surely informed you, you will be able to have an exceptional life. Next to power and status. You just have to let it go and embrace the new life that I can offer you.” Sherlock blinked down while a tear rolled down his cheek. He was embarrassed. Crying in front of Moriarty. His arch enemy. The thing he always most feared. Jim came a little closer and brushed that one tear of Sherlock's cheek with his free hand and clasping that hand on his chin forcing Sherlock to look him in the eyes.  
“take comfort in the fact that you never had a choice. You and so many others had no choice. By taking that pill you give yourself over to the network, to me. Finally not being on the side of the angles. Embracing another side of yourself.” Sherlock tried his hardest not to look him in the eyes but failed. His grip was way too strong, and Sherlock's body was weak.  
“Kill me. please.” He pleaded with his eyes while Moriarty frowned.  
“What.”   
“Kill me. I don't want to move on. I don't want to forget about my past, who I am.” Moriarty let go of him and sighed.  
“Ah, Sherlock. You were always so suborned. Making it more difficult than it actually is.” He remarked with amused laughter following.   
Sherlock nervously clutching his fingers to his chest. His heart was beating at speed seconds and he heard his pulse racing.  
“You know, it’s funny. You’re a complete mess.” Moriarty eyeing Sherlock closely and rolling his eyes.  
“Touch of drama in everything you do, don't you think. Rather Dying than becoming untouchable. How can someone be so stupid? I thought you being a genius, even on par to my own.” Sherlock looked up.  
"You want me to throw away everything that I've been building for years. My identity. I made me and you want to destroy me. You talk about becoming untouchable. Noone is ever truly untouchable, especially under the influence of a drug. I'll just end up as one of your minions.” Moriarty blinked.   
“I don't want to destroy you, don't you see. I want to bring out the best in you. To make you realize what you've been missing all this time spend hating me.” Sherlock laughed sarcastically.   
“What's that, huh?. Being the co-leader of this pathetic network. Being you. Being on the side of the demons?” Moriarty nodded enthusiastically.  
“I was always willing to go all the way to ensure your allegiance,” Moriarty said without any expression on his face. He was so hard to read. He always was.  
“What happens after I take that pill?” Sherlock said defeated. Tears threatening on the corner of his eyes again.  
“You don't have to know,” Moriarty answered.  
“I need to know. Please.” Jim came closer again, holding the pill in front of Sherlock's face.  
“You will get rid of that nagging feeling of guilt. You will be able to embrace your new identity. Embrace us as a network.” Sherlock opened his palm looking towards the pill that would change his life forever.  
“How many people have taken that kind of drug.”   
“Most of my people,” Jim answered.  
“ It's my way of securing power, ensuring loyalty. It's the only one” Jim patched Sherlock by the neck.  
"I reckon Rosamund never touched any of this." Sherlock's eyes glazed. He tried not to think about John or Mycroft, or his parents. He tried to clear his mind from everything that was holding him back, cause there was no choice to make.   
"I made a lot of mistakes when it comes to Rosamund," Moriarty replied and got more impatient now.  
“Listen. I don't have time for chit-chat. Either you are going to take that pill now or the deal is off. I am done waiting around” He made clear while softly caressing Sherlock's neck hair which Sherlock tried to ignore while eyeing the pill in this palm, grabbing it from Moriarty and making one last blink. One last image of John in front of his eyes, before he took a deep breath and plunged the pill between his teeth, swallowing it down. Moriarty's eyes widened with excitement at the same moment with pure bliss. The minute Sherlock swallowed the pill, Jims face lightened up in a happy and exhilarating rush of madness. Sherlock did not feel anything, he just felt empty, like he was sinking into the deep dark waters.


	31. No Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mary and John walk free while Sherlock is dealing with the aftermath. Moriarty and Victor are at odds, or are they? 
> 
> Next chapter is following. The storylines can intertwine from now on within the chapters.

Mary held John's hand tightly walking through base, eyes following them every move. She could feel that John was getting more agitated with every passing member of the network. They were mostly disgusting glares towards them, biting their tongue to utter a word. Apparently, Moriarty was good at keeping his word. They wouldn't be stopped to exit the base.   
"Keep calm. They won't stop us. I see how this is going..." She whispered next to him as Mary pushed another door open and John's eyes were met with the mild air that hit his face, and a clear blue sky. The actual sky.   
"We're out." His lips pursing and his face clearing up a bit. His tears dried and he could see Moriarty's men and women disappear. Slowly but surely, Mary and he were left alone. Left to their own devices, but John felt a glimmer of hope growing inside of him. A glimmer that Mary was genuine in her attempt to make a new life for herself. For their daughter and actually would become a great ally for John in his pursuit to bring Sherlock back. Mary was picking up her pace with each step and they both ran towards the gates that were so symbolic of her life. Those gates have held her captive for so long, and now she was actually able to walk out of it as a free woman.  
"Ok. Come on John." She spoke up again and they were now running through those gates into the open field. It was easier then both of them would have expected. All they earned were judgemental stares and whispers but no one actually dared to stop them. To stop Mary who was so respected by the network.  
"I'm here." He said breathless from running, their hands still entwined.   
"What next." His question came right after as Mary looked above the field, her hands on her forehead.   
"We need to get back to have MI5 dropped us off. There's no signal in this radius, never has been really. Moriarty made sure that the base was completely untraceable. We're basically cut off from the outside world if we stay within this radius. We have to walk all the way back." John was exhausted more than ever and to think that they had to go all the way back, without a car was sheer impossible.  
"I don't know if I am physically able to do that right now," he said genuinely while his legs just wanted to give in. He needed to rest at least for half an hour.   
"I would carry you." Mary smiled and caught John grinning as well. There natural banter coming to life again.  
"Very funny. But if you give me just a couple of minutes" I will be able to at least pace behind you."Mary waved her hand.  
"Don't worry. Of course. Let's rest for a bit. Technically we are already safe. There's no one going to come behind us anymore." Those words haven't sunk in yet really. She knew that this was all real but she would have to pinch herself more times than actually necessary.   
"We can rest and track down the field at dawn." She announced and John was starting to lay down on the grass.

*******

Moriarty looked down to the sleeping form on the bed. He was proud, not only of himself but of Sherlock too. He actually decided to follow in his path, to become part of the network by choosing to swallow that pill. Something extraordinary called the Spider drug. Powerful and strong and almost irrevocable produced and supplied by his good friend Culverton Smith. TD12 was outdated in comparison. A memory inhibitor which dulls the senses and eliminates me selected memories. The spider drug was an updated version with a more powerful influence on any user. Obedience and Loyalty were guaranteed. Reprogramming of that person's life and self-perception. After the initial sleeping phase, Sherlock would wake up with no memory of his past life. Everything he would know would be his allegiance to the network and anything else that Moriarty wanted him to know. Reprogramming. Big business in the criminal world and necessary if you wanted to stay on top.   
There was a loud knock on the door and Moriarty could immediately tell by the sound of it who it was.   
"Come on in." He obliged and in came Alex, followed by an ill-looking Victor. He clearly looked like he'd gone through hell. His shoulder wrapped in an arm holster and bandages. Mary really had done a number on him. His face was covered in bruise and stitches from Sherlock's outburst on him.   
"Ah finally. Perfect timing this TIME around. Not so lucky earlier." His voice slurring in menace and Victor could immediately tell how angry Moriarty actually was with his stunt. He wanted to reply immediately but saw the sleeping form laying on the bed and immediately his heart was sinking.   
"Yes. I can only apologize for my behavior. I don't know what got into me." Victor looked like a different man, so beat up and messed up. He was always so proper and put together, not the shamble of a man that Moriarty was met by.   
"You could have fucked this whole think up, you actually did. Because of your bad judgment, I had to let her and the doctor run free." Moriarty's words came slow and threatening and Victor knew he was in trouble. He became more agitated looking towards Alex for help, but her face was blank.   
"Please. I swear that was really not my intention, I just wanted to him out as quick as possible. I thought it was the right thing to do at the time. I thought I'd have it under control." Moriarty didn't raise his voice but send one knowing look towards Alex.  
"Whatever, please don't bore me. You know what we do to people who disappoint me." Victor immediately rushed to his knees, kneeling in front of Moriarty, dropping his gaze in absolute surrender. His body was slightly shaking.  
"Please. I beg you. I regret it deeply, and I will do everything to make up for it. I will track down Rosemund and will bring her back. You will get your revenge." Moriarty grinned slightly by Victor's attempt to escape the cell. He was right. It would be Victor's duty to bring her back.  
"I already granted her freedom, but you are in fact right. I am not planning to let her live. She has done the highest betrayal possible. She doesn't deserve to draw another breath." He stated and looked back at Alex again who nodded and left the room, which Victor took a good sign, still kneeling in front of Moriarty.  
"I am sorry, I 've wronged you and the network." He raised his gaze and slowly stood up still shaking.  
"Please. You know how much I hate apologies. There shouldn't be any cause I expect my people to always be on top of their game. If not, I should have to reevaluate" Victor looked frightened, his eyes wild, but reevaluation sounded better than being compromised or getting imprisoned.  
"I'll do anything you ask of me. I won't let you down again. I just want the job done, our plan realized." Moriarty nodded, his grin still very much alive, looking over to the motionless form of Sherlock Holmes. Victor followed his gaze and his eyes turned soft. Sherlock Holmes was laying there in the most peaceful manner. His soft black curls in a mess sprawled all over the pillows. He looked like an angel fallen from heaven.  
"That's all I ever wanted," Moriarty replied, his eyes not turning away from Sherlock.   
"I want a full meeting later on with the board and also an initiation planned after I make him presentable and ready for it,” Moriarty instructed Victor who looked more than taken off guard by Moriarty's willingness to let his misbehaving go. He would have to be reevaluated again, but that seemed harmless to the things Moriarty could put in place for him.   
“Ok. No Problem. Should I take care of him, someone needs to monitor him.” He eyed Jim from the corner of his eyes now.   
“No, it's fine. I will have someone monitor him for the next couple of hours while he’s going through the treatment.” Victor nicked his head before he  
his eyes dilated seemingly while he looked between Victor and Jim.  
“Ok, just let me know if there is any trouble, I can always look after him if you're too busy.”   
Victors glare was manifested towards Sherlock.  
“I know you can. And I know you want to. But I'll have it under control Victor.” Victors head nudged while Moriarty's body turned to his.  
“What are you implying.” He asked nervously.  
“I'm not blind, neither ignorant. I know you fucked him the first chance you got.” Victors feet stepped behind him while Moriarty came dangerously close, his eyes forming into slits while his smile did not fade.  
“I didn’t.” His voice broke.  
“ No need to feel obligated to tell me the truth, Victor. I know you are infatuated with him. Always have. I also know that there is history between the two of you, so I never doubted your loyalty towards his inauguration. You did a pretty good job of bringing him in here apart from all the shit you were up to when you thought I wasn't there.” Victor looked at the floor then back to him. Jim pat him on the shoulder.   
“Everyones got a past. I know you want him with you.” Victor slowly started letting his body relax. The tensions were killing him at this point.  
“I do. I never stopped loving him. That's the truth, as much as I didn't want to admit it to anyone. I love him.” Jim smiled while his eyes blinked and looked back towards Sherlock. Jim looked him up and down before turning back towards Victor.  
“ Love. Such a fickle thing." Victor didn't know what to say. Moriarty jet again caught him off guard. Apparently, Mocking him.   
"I have to attend to business anyways and I'm sure you're pleased to oversee his treatment.” Jim agreed while Victor's eyes lit up. What game was Moriarty playing with him? Changning his mind every fucking minute.  
“Yes, Indeed. I’ll take good care of him for you. Under my guidance, I'm certain he will become one of the greatest members of the network.”   
Jim nodded towards Victor, turned towards the door and left Victor to oversee Sherlock for the rest of the day.


	32. The Lover and The Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor's heart is open like never before, so is Mycroft's who will go to any length to save his brother.   
> Anthea is making her first appearance in this chapter.

Victor was looming above sherlock’s figure with awake eyes. He never left his eyes of the detective's form and steadied his body while he let his finger caress through the black curls. Sherlock's sleeping form lay on the enormous bed while Victor gave him all the attention he needed to monitor his process. The mind process in particular. Victor was worried and at the same time, he looked forward to this new men that he would become in mere hours from now. The pill had the ultimate effect to shut down his disobedience but at the same time make him stronger. He would be able to use his brilliant mind for the cause without totally losing his self-control.   
“Not long now darling and you will finally be free of your past life.” Victor hushed to the sleeping form in front of him. He really could not take his eyes off of him. All this time he had to spend without William was wasted just because they were both following a different cause. They should have never ever separated. He should have never let that happen. William would have never met the army doctor, nor fell in love with the doctor while Victor was entangled in stepping up the ladder of Moriarty's network. Very successfully might he add but still, They would have been together all these years.   
“I can't wait until you wake up and I can see these beautiful eyes looking at me. I really miss seeing those eyes now.” Victor brushed his hands through Sherlock's dark black curls while mesmerized.   
“I want us to start over. Completely. All this fighting. You beating me up because of him. It has to stop. It's not who you really are. Falling for a fool like him, so ordinary and common. You can finally be true to yourself, and be with the person you were always meant to be with. Someone who is equal to you in every way. ” Victor brushed along and thought about everything he ever wanted to say to Sherlock, but could not say to his face.  
“You know, being here with you right now, reminds me of the old days, the day we first met and I knew instantly that you were special. Our, first date. First kiss. You know, shadowing you for the past years, seeing how famous you’ve become, I was immediately jealous. I never confessed but I was. I was jealous of you and him together because I knew that could have been me. I was the right person, I always was, unfortunately, you did not see it like that because you could not understand what I wanted us to be. You were not up for it. Mycroft discouraging you from getting close to me, because he's secretly jealous of his little brother because you are perfect. Mycroft was always so jealous of you and me. That's why he destroyed our relationship. You are brilliant, smart, sharp, and beautiful, Sherlock Holmes. All the things I am, and together we make the perfect match. A match that can do great things. And you will. Soon you will be the man, I wanted you to be for so long. Forgetting about your past life, especially that obnoxious and dull army doctor, your noisy brother and everything you thought would make you happy in life. It's a lie. You and I know very well that I am the closest thing to making you happy. I am the closest thing to making you feel alive.” Victor smiled to himself. He was bursting with energy and feelings he could not suppress.   
“I need you to know how much I want you to be by my side. How much I love you. How much I am prepared to do to keep it like that. You and Me.” Victor all of a suddenly heard cracks coming from the front door while Victor let his fingers trace over Sherlock's cheekbone. Alex popped her head through the door and looked immediately apologetic to have intruded a seemingly intimate moment between Sherlock and Victor.   
“Hey, I just wanted to deliver a message.” She squirmed. Victor frowned.  
“From whom may I ask.” Victor sat up on the bed and made his way towards Alex. He definitely was not happy to be disturbed that was clear from his face immediately.   
“They just had a meeting. They want to relocate, Sir. The private jet is leaving in the morning.” Victor blinked and crossed his hands in front of his chest.  
“Right. Who’s coming? Did Phillipe tell you.” Alex's eyes glanced over at the unmoving form on the bed.  
“Yeah, he did. It's just the seniors. We make our way to the SP by noon tomorrow.” Victor frowned a little, Alex could see that he was thinking hard.  
“Good. Alex. Thanks for letting me know so soon.”  
“No problem. Moriarty sends me.” She insured while Victor dropped his gaze for a second. He was clearly on close watch.   
"Right. Nevermind. Thanks anyways." He smiled weakly while Alex disappeared from the door and let it fall shut. 

 

********

 

Before he knew it, Mycroft was roaming around his mansion packing some essential things for a long while out. Out of normal civilian life. He was becoming a manic more and more. His thoughts were revolving around Sherlock and whatever they would do to him, or already had done to him. He could not be sitting around letting Sherlock deal with this on his own account. Leaving him behind. He would rather die than do nothing to support and protect him. Anthea, his closest employee and probably only acceptable human being other than Sherlock came upstairs, tea in her hand.   
“Sir, Are you ok, I heard rumbling and shouting.” Anthea came in with a quit disturbed looked as she saw the state of Mycroft's frenzy.   
“Yes. Everything will be ok. I will make it ok. I will make sure he will be ok.” Mycroft was running through the rooms eager to get his suitcase stocked with the most essential things for the next weeks. Why was he even doing this? He had staff and people to do this for him? but keeping himself on his feet was quiet calming at the moment. It helped him to stay sane.   
“What do you mean and what are you doing. Are you planning to move in or out.” Mycroft chuckled lightly to himself. He did not even know where he was. The MI5 headquarters, 221B, His mansion. Everything seemed to blur into one since the last couple of days. Actually, since Greg mentioned that bastard Victor Trevor. The bane of his life.  
“Well, that's a good question. I actually plan on doing neither. I'm going to get Sherlock back as promised.” Anthea all of a sudden became frantic.  
“Sherlock got abducted and you are trying to save him now. By yourself?” Mycroft stopped midway and embraced Anthea in a warm hug. She was completely caught off guard. Never ever was Mycroft ever affectionate to anyone. She has never seen her boss being in any way close to another human being. She wasn't even sure if he was capable of that. But the fear over his brother's safety was apparently driving Mycroft towards the edge.   
“I'm not trying, I will save him. John and Mary are nowhere to be traced. We exhausted all of our efforts to find Sherlock. There's nothing else left to do. I can't sit around any longer. The boys are still out there looking for him, and they won't stop looking until I tell them to, but I myself have to make myself useful, even though I hate legwork.” Anthea looked worried and scared.  
“I don't want you to get yourself in danger. Sherlock is to stay alive, but so do you, Sir” Mycroft blinked while trying not to tear up at the thought of Sherlock.  
“I don’t care about getting killed. I'm not afraid to die.” Anthea nodded.  
“You really do love your brother, don't you.” She smiled at Mycroft who gave her a weak smile back.  
“I know you don't want to hear this, but you should not try to go after Sherlock by yourself." his look stern.  
“I won't of course. I take boys from MI5 with me, or the ones that are still left, cause most of them are scattered around the country, trying to find him for days. It just takes too much time. The time that I don't have. The time that I can not waste by sitting around and waiting for them to make a mistake.” Mycroft gave Anthea a forced warm smile.  
“I trust my team completely, I just have my doubts that the intelligence can extract Sherlock without barrings and damage. My way is the quickest way to get what I want.”   
“The quickest way you said. I can help you with that.” All of a sudden Anthea and Mycroft turned towards the door and saw Greg Lestrade standing in the doorway with a smug grin on his face, immediately making his way towards Mycroft. How the fuck did he get in, Mycroft wondered.   
“Detective Lestrade. I did not think you’d still come over.” Greg's face fell a bit as he looked into the almost empty eyes of Mycroft. The older Holmes brother was adamant to keep in contact with Scotland Yard at all times and demanded updates every other hour.   
“Of course. You texted, I'm here. I would have come over anyways to check in with you about the latest update and in fact, there's some development.” Anthea looked between the two, back and forth. Mycroft frowned.  
“What do you mean.”   
“Well. My team did some great work since this morning you texted me. We’ve also been keeping in contact with the secret service and as it seems they have found a trace on John Watson. His device has picked up some activity. He's alive and his location is close to the drop off point" Mycroft blinked confused but really relieved about the doctor's sign of life.  
“That's brilliant news. Absolutely brilliant. I mean what are we waiting for. Fetch him right away and bring him to me.” Greg sighed and nodded.  
"I've already ordered that. MI5 is on it. Your boys are bringing him home. Nothing will be done without your consent, that's why I came to speak to you.” Anthea came between them. Greg blinked and grabbed his phone. He had to admit, he was a little distracted by Anthea, but not in a good way. She seemed to demand Mycroft's attention and that didn't sit right with Greg at all for some reason.   
“Listen, I know how difficult it must be for you, but this is an absolute success, Mycroft. If John is alive, this means he will be able to lead us to the network, to their base. To Sherlock” Mycroft looked down.  
“If it would be that easy." He just answered. There seemed to be something behind those eyes, that Greg couldn't read. Something that Mycroft seemed to know what made him so concerned.


	33. Sunken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock awakes. John and Mary have a heartfelt conversation. 
> 
> I really like exploring the relationship between Mary and John more, cause it's such a complex one, especially after everything that has happened. It's nice to see the friendship that could have been between them, as most of the relationship is broken due to Mary's betrayal. It's good to see them on such honest level with each other. John's feelings are clear at this point. 
> 
> Sherlock has seemingly gone through the transformation which usually takes a couple of hours of a pure sleeping state.

The hours ticked by. Long waiting hours that were precious for his treatment, but Victor started to get more impatient. There wasn't any time to waste if they really had to relocate in the morning. Whatever Moriarty had planned without him, it didn't sit well with him to move. Not now. Victor lay next to Sherlock's form, being exhausted himself, healing his wounds. His shoulder gave him the worst pain of his life, but the painkillers did their work somehow. He was up from the bed taking the next bunch of painkillers while he started to turn around towards the bed and saw Sherlock slowly opening his eyes and moving. He dropped half of the painkillers immediately and sprung towards his side on the bed and cradled his face in his hands.  
“Oh my god. William. Are u ok?” Sherlock blinked a couple of times. His body slowly coming to life again from a long sleep. Sherlock blinked as his eyes fell from the ceiling to Victor's face who still looked worried as hell. He knew immediately who was in front of him. He knew who this person was. 

“Victor.” His voice came in a deep and sleepy tone, deeper than ever and husky. He was still half asleep it seemed and Victor's grin was larger than ever.  
“William. Your Back.” He said while Sherlock nudged his head and smiled back at him.   
“Back? Where have I been.” Victor was trained, he saw this process multiple times and he knew how he wanted Sherlock's mind to work from now on. He could form him, train him, to be exactly like he’d always imagined.  
“Asleep. You’ve slept for a long time, we’ve been worried that you never wake up again.” He said while Sherlock kept smiling at him and set his body up slowly from the bed.  
“Right. I can’t remember what happened. I know that I was about to do something that you and Jim have asked me to do.” Victor was absolutely pleased by the outcome. The pill was working exactly how it should be. Backing up every track of the network and his future role in it. Reprogramming at its finest.  
“Ok. I know that you might be a little bit out of it right now, so you should rest after being in a sleeping state for such a long time.” Victor hushed with the most caring voice one can ever hear. Sherlock looked absolutely breathtaking right now of that Victor was absolutely sure about. Every ounce in his body tried to concentrate to make the process for Sherlock as easy as possible but how could he when Sherlock looked like the most beautiful mess in the world. His gorgeous locks stood up in every direction, his clothes were ruffled, and Victor would give everything to just take Sherlock right here and there.   
“You’re right. I feel a little bit odd. Did you look after me all this time.” Victor caressed Sherlocks face.   
“Yeah I did, after all, you’re my husband.” Sherlock's brow went up. He looked confused immediately. Like clicks in his head were going off.   
“I am, am I.” He responded while Victor smiled at him in the most loving way. His eyes were full of stars.   
“I was so worried about you.” Victor looked down at Sherlock's mouth. His face. Everything. He really had to pull himself together. All the information just received in the meantime manifested into Sherlock's brain immediately and he brought his hands up to Victors face as well.  
“No need. You know that I'm known to be indestructible. I'm just sorry that I let you wait for so long.” He answered. There he was. Still William, just different. He was the William that belonged to the network. His William.  
“No apologies needed my love. I'm just glad you are ok.” The air thickened and Victor felt Sherlock's hand between his legs. He looked up in surprise.   
“I missed you.” Sherlock all of a sudden said while Victor really could not comprehend the speed in which the pill had worked, and how perfect the transformation had been. Everything they had been navigating beforehand had manifested perfectly onto Sherlock's brain. His past life eliminated.  
“You have no idea.” Victor smiled.  
"What happened to your shoulder, your face. Who did that to you" Sherlock brushed his other hand over the bruises on Victor's face, he snorted out in pain a bit. His face still swollen. It was a bit ironic of course, that Sherlock looked now super concerned about the whereabouts of his injuries.   
"Ah. I was just out operating. I hate legwork, but sometimes it's necessary as you know and they caught me on a bad day. Nothing to worry though, those will be gone in a few days. The shoulder will take a little longer" Sherlock softly brushed his hands against his cheeks and stopped at his lips, coming as close as possible.  
"Let me kiss it better then." He replied and crushed his lips onto Victors, who immediately kissed him back. 

 

*******

 

John was feeling numb when he saw the swat team coming towards them. He was on the back of his knees now, so exhausted from the distance that Mary and he have put behind them and the base. So he just fell into one of the arms of the swat members until they carried him back into the car. Mary was strong, a trained assassin, she was bruised up and exhausted too, but way more agile then John. They had decided to take a rest but started to walk past the field by dawn which took them a good couple of hours to walk through. By the time they arrived on the other end with no real recollection of how they made it out, they were greeted by Mycroft's boys.   
John was laying on the back of the car. He was wrapped in a blanket, water supplied and food supplied, the only thing missing was a real shower, but apart from that, he felt like his body could finally rest and recover. Yet, he felt numb by the thought of Sherlock. Utterly numb and hopeless. He just wanted to scream out. Fully scream out his name and go back to where they came from. It just wasn't fair. They would drive him and Mary back to his daughter. To the life, he had left behind for Sherlock. Mary didn't utter a single word since they got picked up in the SUV. John knew they would have to keep it that way. If Mary wanted to establish her freedom, nobody could know about her past involvement with the network and Moriarty. Her hands her clutched in her lap, as John was reaching for her. She looked up in surprise.   
"Are you okay." He wanted to know, his eyes sincere as Mary was taking absolutely off guard. She didn't really expect kindness from John.   
"I will be, once we get back to Charlotte." She answered. Charlotte. His beloved daughter. His whole being was attached to that little girl. Nothing he ever could love more in his life. That's what he thought.   
"I can't go back to her, Mary." He said, his voice came in whispers at the back of the SUV while Mary grabbed his hand now, looking at him with tears in her eyes.  
"What do you mean." He dropped his gaze lightly.  
"Please don't take it personally, but I can't go back to her feeling like this empty shell. I'm not good for her right now." Mary bit her tongue. She didn't want to burst out on John, but rather understand why he couldn't just pluck up the courage.   
"What do you want me to do." She said sharply, looking up at him, warmth in her eyes.  
"I want you to go back and take of our little girl. She needs at least one of us. In the meantime, Mycroft will demand one of us at headquarters. Let me deal with it first, before we make any new plans. You know more than anyone of us. You know the way they operate, and you know how to best get into the base. With your help, we actually have a good shot at getting him back." John made clear, his eyes never leaving hers. Mary nodded, completely understanding her role and what John was asking of her.   
"I will do as you ask of me, although I think you should be with her. She needs her daddy as much as she needs me." She clarified.  
"Where Sherlock is concerned. I am pretty certain that Moriarty has proposed to relocate to another base. They won't be there for long, maybe they left already, at least the key people, which are most likely the seniors who will vanish as quickly as possible, knowing that I am out there, compromised and all." She explained bluntly and John's eyes grew a bit.  
"Hang on. So they will go to a different location altogether." She nodded while she could see John's mind exploding. Hope to lose.   
"Whereabouts." Mary sighed.  
"There are four other bases across the UK. Those bases can change, so they could technically be anywhere. Knowing what I know, they won't choose a base that I know of." This became more and more a nightmare.   
"So they could be anywhere in mere hours." His hands lightly shaking as he drew his hand back.  
"Technically yes. Bases are always untraceable in the radius Moriarty will decide them to be. It's a radiation system they use to be practically invisible. The constant moving around the country is part of that. I could explain it to you in more detail but I'd rather wait until we've talked to Mycroft." John nodded understandably but seemed shocked at what Mary just revealed to him. There were too many things coming up at once.   
"Right. Mycroft. I need to get to Mycroft as quick as possible." He said and Mary was nodding in agreement.   
"Listen, John, Thanks for your kindness really. I know I don't deserve it really."   
"You don't" He confessed, his eyes still stern.  
"But you can redeem yourself if you keep honest with me. I'm so sick of games. Especially after everything that has happened in the last two days. If you want to be part of my life again, I need to be able to trust you." Mary's eyes welled up with tears.  
"I know that. I know it's too early, but I will give my best to prove to you that I'm being honest." They started to whisper now, trying not to be too obvious about it.   
"Right. So I trust you will go to check on our daughter while I'll deal with the rest."   
"Yes. Please just stay in touch with me. There's a lot that Mycroft needs to know, which I don't know how to reveal to him without blowing my cover." She was right. Mary was about to reveal her past if she would let on to know too much.   
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure we will come up with some idea" He said half-heartedly as he really had no idea at least for now how to deliver the right amount of intelligence to Mycroft without getting Mary into real trouble.


	34. Fickle Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a fickle game that Victor is playing with Sherlock as is John's current situation. Victor is getting comfortable with the lie that he and Moriarty have created in order to make Sherlock part of their network. Meanwhile, John is still struggling with consequences of potentially having lost the love of his life. 
> 
> This one is again a shorter chapter, a chapter that supports the plot. It is to note that Greg and John have always been very good friends since they met through Sherlock. Consequently, John trust Greg completely.

The one arm and hand that Victor could use, he tried to put to good use although he definitely felt the strain on his injured shoulder. Sherlock's tongue was talented and his skin was the softest. His jet black curls were caressing Victor's cheek and his hands were all over him. Exactly as Victor wanted him to act. It couldn't be more perfect if it wouldn't be for his damned shoulder, caused by his now arch-enemy "Mary Watson".   
"Sherlock." Victor breathed out while Sherlock was starting to open Victor's buttons. He had never seen Sherlock being so eager, so hungry. It was all over his beautiful face. He looked up from where his tongue was tracing a line on Victor's neckline.   
"What." He had that smile on his face again. That cheeky smile Victor remembered so well from their uni days.  
"I really want to continue, but I'm afraid I'm physically unable today." It really angered Victor to no end to have to reject Sherlock, but the pain on his shoulder was too strong for any physical activities. Sherlock was looking a bit stunned for a split second but that withdrew immediately and nodded his head.  
"Yeah, of course. I completely forgot. How silly of me." He spoke quickly. Victor missed his touch immediately and grabbed Sherlock's face with one hand drawing him back towards him, to look him in those amazing eyes.   
"Hey,...it's not silly at all. I want this more than anything, trust me. I've missed this far too long, I've missed you, and I want nothing more than to make love to you. I want you. Always. But the pain in my shoulder is just too strong right now. I can hardly move my upper body, and I probably shouldn't put a strain on it too much if I want this to heal quickly." Sherlock came closer and gave Victor a quick peck on the lips, enjoying their breathing together.  
"Good to know that it's not me then. I was worried for a second that I've lost my appeal." Victor was so outraged by that comment that he just grabbed Sherlock again and kissed him as passionately as possible. He just loved this man more than he ever thought possible.  
"Rubbish. You never will. You are absolutely perfect in any way possible. The sexiest man I've ever met. Always will be, my love." He ensured and Sherlock chuckled slightly, kissing Victor again. If kissing was the only thing that Victor was physically able to do than Sherlock would kiss that man senseless.  
"Good." He hushed while Victor was looking at him in the most lovable way. He was happier than he ever thought possible laying here with Sherlock as his rightful husband, just them being as they were always meant to be. Victor really couldn't believe how everything has turned out. From capturing Sherlock in the first place, chaining him up in that cell, meeting his pet, Sherlock beating him senseless, and now ending up laying in bed with him. It was all quite miraculous really.  
"So, what are we going to do for the rest of the day if it won't involve sex?" That was a really good question which Victor would have loved to have the answer to.  
"I wish I knew myself, but as far as I am informed we are making our way to the SP, strategic reasons, the usual. So I figure we'll spend some time on packing. We'll leave tomorrow morning." Victor could see that Sherlock was taking in the information and how his brain worked now. There was no second guessing anymore. Everything was processed without troubleshooting.   
"Sure. Ok. Meaning we will have enough time to lay here a little bit longer. I'm super quick at packing. So you don't need to worry about that." Sherlock was coming on to him again, starting to kiss his neck again, letting that excellent tongue work its way. Victor was breathing hard, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. Moaning in response.   
"that's the spot right there, my love." 

 

 

*****

 

John Hamish Watson. Once, the brave army soldier and still the capable doctor that he was, stepping out of the black SUV, and walking up towards the Gates that held the Holmes Crest in its middle. Mycroft Holmes gigantic mansion was towering in front of him. One of Mycroft's guys, specifically selected operators at MI5, was walking in front of him, guiding him along as John tried to push the nagging thought out of his way, that he most certainly just abandoned his daughter again. Leaving her behind again, while his life was hanging in shambles.   
"Doctor Watson. Are you okay from here? If you are, I and my team would attend to work again. Mr. Holmes is expecting you though." John was nodding his head, he felt a bit dazed.   
"Yes. Sure. Thank you, Tom is that right." He checked again while shaking his hand in farewell.  
"Yeah, Yes. Exactly. Tom Parker, Sir." John was trying for a smile. He was really grateful.  
"Well, Thank you, Mr. Parker. I and my wife are very grateful for what you've done. Your team has done a tremendous job." John's stomach turned a bit by the word "wife", but he had to keep up pretenses if he was trying to avoid blowing Mary's cover.   
"No, It's my honor. Captain. Everyone knows who you are. You and Sherlock Holmes are practically famous. For good reason. You both did tremendous work over the years." Just the sheer mention of Sherlock was too much for John to handle already. His eyes were dropping a bit taking on an emptiness. He really didn't want to break that early on, so he pulled himself together and trying for a smile again. A smile that was never reaching his eyes.  
"Thank you. Really. I mean that genuinely. Thank you." he was with nothing left to say, as he turned away, towards the long corridor where he was about to get back to the task at hand. Saving his reason to live.

He was walking fast now, his pace picking up. John was beginning to get annoyed by the outrages size of this mansion. If Mycroft was really living on his own when he was delusional. John went to open the one door towards the lobby area and was really taken aback by the quietness and also that it was such an open space. Nothing was locked or hidden away, not that John was seeing any personal belongings or something that could actually account for the fact that someone was living in this mansion. it was all so cleanish and perfect like you were walking through a museum.  
"John, Oh my god. You're okay." He saw Greg coming towards him at the quickest pace and embracing him immediately. He was holding onto John for the longest time and John was equally happy to see his friend again. His tears slowly welling up by that warm hug from the man who knew Sherlock longer than he did. And all of a sudden John realized how much he had needed that hug. Over the last 24 of hours, there was no time thinking, he was mainly just reacting and doing and he now realized how much he needed for someone to console him. To show him some affection after he just potentially lost the love of his life forever.   
"Greg. So good to see you." His voice came weak as tears were spilling from his eyes. Greg slowly pulling out of the hug but keeping both of his hands steady on John's shoulder.  
"And you. You can't possibly imagine, how worried everyone was after we lost both of your signals. Mate, you made it out alive." Greg was the softest guy ever, even if he sometimes wanted to come across as this badass copper, which he was at times, but deep down he was just the most caring person.   
"Yeah, with great difficulty actually. Mary and I made it out, but....." John's voice broke.  
"...Sherlock didn't. He sacrificed himself yet again. To bargain my freedom." Mycroft looked at him in disbelief. He was shell-shocked and his arms were dropping to his sides.  
"He did. Oh, my God." Greg was brushing his hands over his face, his thoughts immediately going towards Mycroft.   
"When we got the info that your signal was picking up again, we had a tiny hope that you made it all out, or if not that then at least you would be able to lead us back to the network?" His voice hopeful for the last part. John not responding right away made it clear that it didn't seem to be that easy.  
"I'm afraid, I don't know. There are lots to talk about and to explain, but we have to act quickly and by quickly I mean super speed if we want to have a chance to catch them." Greg was getting more confused now. John definitely sounded cryptic.   
"What do you mean. Catch them? All we need is to get Sherlock out there for starters." John nodded, as his eyes grow darker.  
"Yes of course. But you don't understand. Moriarty is alive."


	35. Our Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Sorry for another delay but I'm running two jobs at the moment at trying to keep up with the rest!   
> This story just keeps on getting more interesting for me as I go along and on the journey with the characters. Greg and Mycroft do take center stage in this chapter while John is being consumed by what to say and what not to say. 
> 
>  
> 
> Everyone who's still on the journey with me and this story, I hope you really enjoy the ups and downs that the wonderful relationship between John and Sherlock creates. Although the TV show seems to be over for good, I really do enjoy other people's interpretations and story about them and keeping them alive in our imagination.

Sherlock remained sitting on the bed while he watched Victor roam around the room, packing some stuff together.   
"Darling, we can't possibly lay here forever. I need to attend business. For instance, letting everyone know that you're finally awake." He laughed to himself and chuckled a bit at the sight of sherlock's pout.   
"It's time to face the music my love" Sherlock sighed.  
"Yeah, I know. Sorry for enjoying some alone time with my husband" He said while scrunching up his nose and rolling himself off the bed.   
"I reckon, I should take a shower first though. I don't know how it doesn't bother you. I reckon, I haven't showered in days and it smells." Sherlock sniffed at his shirt and received an amused laugh from Victor.   
"It smells like you. I love your smell." He pulls Sherlock by his collar and gives him a big smooch.   
"Each to their own. I'll still jump under the shower if you don't mind." Victor smiled.   
"Go for it." Sherlock smiled back, joining their hands a little longer before disappearing into the bathroom. Victor watched him leave and his head was still spinning. He must have been the luckiest man in the world right now. Sherlock's brain was magnificent. It completely eliminated everything that was attaching him to his own life. It basically eliminated his whole. No Mycroft, no doctor, no memory at all. 

 

*****

 

Greg and John entered the study that Mycroft was in, Anthea always at his back and call, running around with a phone in her hand. Mycroft was standing in front of his big glass window looking over the endless landscape of the English countryside.   
"Mycroft," John spoke out, pulling Mycroft out of his thoughts, turning towards the doctor. The older Holmes brother was turning at super speed, launching his body forward, not coming to close.   
"John Watson." a sad smile crept at the end of his mouth.   
"It is really you" John never saw anything like it. The mighty Mycroft Holmes was shaking. His entire body seemed to be full of tension. His voice breaking at saying his name.  
"I'm here. We need to talk." John tried to keep his voice steady. Mycroft coming a bit closer but not embracing the doctor. By all means, he still seemed paralyzed by the sheer presence of the doctor.  
"Let's take a seat." Mycroft pointed towards the couch. John really had no idea why Mycroft was so formal. Maybe a mechanism to protect himself, his feelings. John walked over to the luxurious looking couch and let himself fall onto it, so did Mycroft who never left his eye line. Greg was more or less standing helplessly in the room, not knowing if to sit down himself or leave the two of them alone.  
"Please. Scotland Yard. You might stay as well. I'm sure whatever John has to say will interest both of us." Mycroft's eyes were glaring at the D.I. as Greg had trouble to hold the stern look of the older Holmes brother.  
"Of course." He mumbled between his teeth and looking back at John sitting opposite him and next to Mycroft, leaning on couch arms.  
"Very well then. I let you explain the details obviously. But in clear words what happened and why are you back here." John took a pause, dropping his gaze. He was definitely nervous, cause he had to play this smartly.   
"It was all working out at the beginning. They took me in and drove me to base. Mary and I didn't realize that my transmitter wouldn't work, so we thought you guys would know where we are. Victor Trevor was in charge when I arrived. He's the right-hand man to Moriarty's network...." Mycroft's eyes were going wider by the minute as he interrupted John mid-sentence.  
"Hang on. Wait. So it was Victor Trevor." John waved his hand.  
"Well. Not exactly. It turned out to be even worse. Moriarty is alive. He has never committed suicide, supposedly, or faked his suicide, or whatever....fact remains, they both have worked together since the beginning, and..." Mycroft jumped up from the couch, grunting and crossing his arms in front of his chest.  
"James Moriarty and Victor Trevor." He spat out the last name. Mycroft seemed more composed than expected but he did turn his back on John.  
"Yes. Moriarty is alive and Victor Trevor as I understand shares a history with you and Sherlock." Mycroft was blinking, turning towards John and Greg again, walking around the room.

"Where is my brother, Doctor Watson." He came to a halt, narrowing down on John, who was definitely startled and quite intimidated by now.   
"I,.....I don't know how to tell you this Mycroft, but Sherlock has bargained for my freedom in exchange for his. He is as of now still a prisoner of the network." Mycroft's eyes were looking into space now, trying to process the information without losing his mind straight away.  
"So he sacrificed himself yet again.........for you." John didn't know what to say, neither did Greg who was looking quite lost between the two of them.  
"Yes.....I'm afraid he did. Myself and Mary,....and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it. I was screaming at him, shouting my lungs out to stop him from making that deal, but he wouldn't listen." John's tears began to well again.  
"He just took it upon himself to make that decision for me. Victor and Moriarty were torturing me, and Sherlock was trying to protect me as always, and...." Mycroft was swirling around in a rush his face taking on pure rage at the man who was getting his brother in danger yet again.  
"exactly. As always you let Sherlock take the plunge while you and your wife are walking away scot-free. This is not how we planned this. This is not how it was supposed to go down. For GOD SAKES." Mycroft's eyes were popping out of his head, his hands at his sides in fists and Greg was looking manic at the older Holmes, trying to read the situation and read him, in fact, to be ready to jump between and spare John the blow.   
"Mycroft, please. I already feel as guilty as one can feel. I would have sacrificed my life for him if he would have let me, but you know your brother, he is stubborn. Moriarty and Victor were deadpan on torturing me to slowly finish me off. Sherlock saw the opportunity arise and he went for it. He wanted me out of that room and as far away from that base as possible. To be honest with you, there was not ever a real choice for him to walk free. Moriarty and Victor planned this for a long while. They wanted Sherlock to be part of the network for a very long time and they got what they wanted. They don't care about getting back at me. All they wanted was Sherlock." John was really trying to keep his cool but it wouldn't work. His love for Sherlock consumed him completely. It was his reason to breath. His reason to continue living. It always was really for all these years where he had been in denial about his feelings. He was such an idiot.  
"They want Sherlock. Noone else." Mycroft repeated while his eyes glazed over the walls. He seemed to be in control of himself again in just split seconds.  
"Yes. They want to make him part of the network. That was Moriarty's goal all along. Victor has the same goal, but on top of it he wants to get Sherlock back again, back as they were in uni"  
Mycroft chuckled a bit to himself now but in a sad and frustrating way.  
"That doesn't surprise me. Victor was always bending over backwards to control my brother. He unfortunately still confuses love with ownership. He doesn't know what love is, he never has. I don't think my brother will be harmed in any way if Victor is there but there are worst things than  
physical abuse." John was brushing his hands over his face in frustration. There were things that he literally couldn't picture without going completely mad. One of those things was Sherlock and Victor together. Naked. In bed. Having Sex. Together. John was going mad. He was actually going mad if Victor would just touch one hair on his curly gorgeous head.  
“So you know” His heart was leaping in fear and anger and rage and all sorts of different ways that one can imagine. Of course, Mycroft knew. The older Holmes brother has always been a force to reckon with. He nodded slowly while clutching his hands again.   
“Of course. We know.” Of course, they did. John waved his hand. There was no doubt about it, this was getting more heartbreaking by the second. He didn’t want to face the truth that MI5 knew about it, that Mycroft knew about the weapon that Moriarty held in his arsenal. Such a powerful weapon and Sherlock was defenselessly exposed to it.   
“Forms of Method. Tell me exactly what it is.” John’s voice came quick and precise. Right to the point. There was no running away from it any longer. Sherlock was in serious danger. In serious danger to lose himself.   
“It’s a memory inhibitor. Stronger then TD12, stronger than anything we’ve seen so far being used on a person's brain that is responsible for long-term memories.” Mycroft took a slight pause exchanging a glance towards Greg Lestrade who stayed silent.   
“ It's a drug. A simple pill and the most stubborn dominant person falls like pudding in their hands. The minute Sherlock is on dosage, he will become the most dangerous criminal mastermind the world has ever seen. His mind on that drug will be deadly. Trust me. Moriarty and Victor have basically Sherlock’s mind to play with.” John was shaking his head vehemently, burying his face in his hands.   
“What about the memories that Sherlock already has.” Greg was almost whispering, he was that cautious around these two men who loved Sherlock the most.  
“They will be eliminated. Once you take the drug your brain will be rewired. Meaning your old life including your memories are gone. He won’t remember a thing. He won’t recognize any of us.” John’s face was still not moving away from his hands. Greg’s jaw was dropping to the floor.   
“Oh my god.” Mycroft dropped his gaze slightly and nodded at Greg’s remark.   
“I need to get back to base. I need to get him out of there.” John was jumping up all of a sudden, his face red, his eyes puffy, his body shaking in rage and fear. Mycroft was launching forward, holding John back, looking him dead serious in the eyes.   
“You won't. Its impossible by now and a suicide mission. Victor will never let you two get into the same room together ever again. Believe me.” John was outraged, he started to panic, pushing Mycroft away. His face red   
“But I cant just let it go either, can I. If this is really what they plan for him,….I….” Mycroft interrupted him eagerly, holding his hands up in front of him.  
“There is nothing you can do John. Really. You have to trust me on this. The man you know as Sherlock won't exist anymore. At least his self-control. Meaning his mind. He will become a legit member of the network, next to Victor, inhabiting all his power and status in the process. He wouldn’t realize who you are if you just walk in there.”   
“There has to be a way to reverse the process, to bring his memories back. Somehow there has to be another way. There has to be.” John was really trying to keep his voice down, trying to keep sane. Repeating those words over and over again in his mind. There had to be another way. He wouldn't accept anything else. He would not accept losing Sherlock like that.   
Mycroft was at the end of his knowledge of this. He was as equally devastated about this, but at least tried to keep a clear head as difficult as the situation was, they had to keep a cool head.   
"Listen, John,...We don't know anything for sure yet. We just know that if Moriarty is really alive as you say, that he will not hesitate to keep Sherlock at Bay with this drug. He was always obsessed with him, and if that was a long plan then he has nothing to lose." John's face went blank.  
"He has done it already. Seeing how eager he was to get rid of me and how much they are focused on Sherlock, he was forcing Sherlock to take that drug the minute me and Mary stepped out of the base. That I can guarantee." His insides were tightening at the imagination of a lost and broken Sherlock Holmes being forced to throw his life away.   
"If we get him back, and we will get him back then there has to be a way to reverse whatever this drug has done to him, Mycroft. I won't accept anything else. I can promise you, that I will do anything to get him back until I draw my last breath." Greg was looking up towards the soldier and doctor and was picking up little details that could possibly build a different picture of what John was portraying right now to both of them. Greg wasn't stupid after all.   
"I believe that you do, John. All I can tell you is that we need to work on getting him physically back first." John was losing it. He could feel himself crumble. His body so so weak.  
"How are we supposed to do that? Mary and I managed to get out of there with great difficulty. The only thing we could pick up on was some weird system Moriarty uses that support the bases to become practically invisible and untraceable." Mycroft was squinting his eyes. Another bombshell dropped on him.   
"Hang on. Bases?"   
"Yes. They are more than we thought, all spread out throughout the UK." The Shock was sinking in slowly. Losing his brother, Losing his brilliant mind, and then not being able to trace him, potentially ever again.   
"The perfect disguise," Mycroft whispered more to himself. It was silent for a moment. Mycroft processing the information and John trying not to get a heart attack. Greg was sitting behind them quite lost and he really didn't know what to say to all that.   
"Maybe we should just calm down a bit. John, you must be exhausted, you should be resting." John was looking at Greg in disbelief.   
"Don't tell me what to do mate." He was snapping, without realizing. His heart beating fast in his chest. Greg was standing up from where he was sitting, holding up his hands, making an attempt to step between them.  
"Hey, I didn't mean it that way. I just think it's best for the moment to take a break. We don't know what Moriarty is planning right now and where they going to take Sherlock, so we have to be smart about this. I understand that tensions are running high right now, but we will be no good to each other if we act in rage and anger. We have to give it some time." John was looking incredulous.   
"Are you mad. The more time we let pass, the more time they have to get away. This is crunch time. We have to act now. Right now." John's face was in an absolute alarm state. His whole body under immense tension. Though, he felt the overwhelming exhaustion creeping up.   
"Stop it, John. Lestrade is right. We have to at least take a moment to regroup. I need to think this through before we can make a move." John's heart was racing by now. His frustration becoming too much.   
"Excuse me, am I hearing right? You need to think this through? I thought we were supposed to work together." Mycroft tucking at his suit jacket. Greg stepping back a bit, seeing how agitated John was.  
"Of course. We are a team. You have my word. When the time is right and MI5 has a full plan in motion, I'll let you know as soon as possible. But in the meantime, you and Scotland Yard need to sit tight." John laughed it off.  
"Fuck that. We talked about this Mycroft and you're still handling this as you would be the only one in charge." Mycroft scoffed.  
"I am the one in charge concerning the power that we have over the situation. MI5 is the only option we have to get things done in the time that it can be done. You and Me won't solve this on our own." John's blood boiling.   
"True. But you need to tell me everything. Not later, not as soon as possible. NOW. I should be involved in this, I have to be, otherwise, I will lose my freaking mind." John spat out while Mycroft understood but at the same time changed his eyesight from John to Greg who did not even dare to look back at Mycroft.  
"Right. I see how this whole is overtaking you. I just thought it would be too much for you. That people like myself and Detective Lestrade would be in a better mindset to map out things in the beginning. Your emotional attachment towards my brother could..." John's eyes were popping out of his head. He saw blind.  
"What. Are you both mental. EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT. I was in there with him. I was watching him sacrifice himself for everyone. I had to look him in the eyes and leave him there. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW THAT FEELS." John tears were spilling, his hands grabbing Mycroft's collar while Greg immediately stepped between them again, pushing at John's chest.  
"John, please." Greg tried to de-escalate the situation while Mycroft was keeping John's gaze.  
"No. I will not stop until he's standing next to me." John's voice lower but his voice still gritting at his teeth.  
"I understand, John. I really do. I wasn't there to see what you had to see, but I am his older brother. There's no other person that I care about more. Sherlock is everything to me." He paused for a second to regain his strength.   
"I see how this whole situation is overtaking you. I just thought it would be too much for you. Greg Lestrade would maybe be in a better mindset to map out things in the beginning. Your emotional attachment towards my brother could..." John laughed all of a sudden. Ironically.   
"Don't spin this as I would be too emotionally unstable for this. You are his brother. As much as I want to kill everyone in sight who's going to hurt him, I am very aware that sentiment has no place in a precise execution, I was an army doctor after all. Don't forget that. I know how to handle emotions." John did not flinch.   
"Are you certain." John let go of Mycroft's collar. His face tear-stricken. A simple nod.   
"John. Come on. Let me take you home." Greg looking sad, having to look at John being in so much pain.   
"Mr. Holmes, maybe you can lend us a couple of your guys to help and you send us the plan when you've negotiated the terms of Sherlock's current situation. I'm sure there will still be enough time for us in the meantime as Moriarty has no clue at the moment that we know about the operation of the network. We have that as our asset. It would be helpful I think if you both stop trying to outwit each other so we can really start working together as a team." Greg voiced while Mycroft looked with surprise and astonishment at him. He was more impressed, to say the least. He always knew that Scotland Yard was not as foolish as his brother opted him out to be.   
"That's a very good suggestion, detective. Something that you would be agreeing on, John." John looked back defeated while looking back towards Greg, giving him the most WTF look ever.  
"Do I have a choice in the matter. You and Detective Lestrade seem to have it all figured out." Greg looked down and borrowed his hands in his pockets. He tried to help but seemed to fail in John's favor. John would not let this one go.  
"John. Please. This is not a competition. You know that we'll only be able to save Sherlock if we work together." John nodded again.   
"I know that, but I really don't like where this is going. I feel you're not trusting me, as I've done nothing else then be upfront with you. I've been going through hell for the last couple of days which doesn't mean that I now have become some liability." John's voice getting weaker, stepping away from Mycroft.   
"You're not." Mycroft finished, looking as exhausted now. Greg found it a good opportunity to leave.  
"Come on John, Let's get you home." Greg stepping towards him, urging him to go with him. Greg eyes looking warmly at him. John turned on his heel, past Greg who tried to avoid his glance while making his way back to the car. Greg in return stole a glance at Mycroft who surprisingly still had his eyes on Greg and their stares collided. It was intense and Greg almost could not hold the look that Mycroft gave him and he really could not attach any emotion towards it. Mycroft was so difficult to read. As soon as Mycroft broke their eye contact he looked over his shoulder towards the wide window.

 

******

 

John stomped back towards Greg car on ridiculous fast pace. He was a few feet in front of Greg who was more or less dreading the conversation that they both needed to have inevitably. Greg knew that to be successful in their operation to save Sherlock, they had to be completely upfront with each other.   
"John. Wait. Listen..." John shuffled and turned his back in immediate response to Greg.   
"No. You, Listen. I almost regret that I came back here, just to be lectured by mister big head himself. I really don't need this right now." He was wilding his hands a bit in frustration.   
"But what I really had not anticipated was you stabbing me in the back like that, just to impress him." Greg was taking a back immediately.  
"What. What the hell are you talking about." John was looking at him in frustration and now in disbelief.  
"I don't know. You tell me. You and Mycroft" Now Greg's eyes were popping out of his head. He really seemed to get totally confused at this point.   
"What are you implying. I work for Scotland Yard, which technically makes him my immediate Boss." Greg scruffed his nose up, having a hard time to find the right words. He was not completely oblivious to the idea obviously, but it was shocking to him that someone else had picked up on it.   
"Nevermind. I was just observant." Now it was Greg's turn to get annoyed and frustrated.  
"Well. Nobody asked you to be observant. I work for Mycroft Holmes, end of story." He finished while John could not contain his frustration over the situation. He was finding it hard to not feel helpless and betrayed by both of them. Greg and Mycroft who should be helping him to save Sherlock. Not let him wait in the corner.  
"It's all useless anyway. Everything is really without him." John spoke more to himself now, without thinking that Greg was standing right in front of him.   
"Just for the record. If you think that you know something, I know something and then some." John was biting his tongue, looking up at Greg. He immediately could see that Greg knew and if Greg knew Mycroft definitely picked up on it as well.  
"What,..I...what do you mean." Panic rising again.  
"Well. You and Sherlock, mate. I mean, it's written all over your face." John was dropping his gaze, looking towards the floor, trying to hold his tears again, before they just came flooding down yet again. His hands trying to mask his eyes, but it was useless at this point to try and deflect. John couldn't possibly keep it in for longer than he already had to. Greg immediately pushed John into a tight hug, embracing the doctor.  
"Hey. Hey. It's okay. It's going to be fine. I kind of always knew. You really don't have to explain." Greg was brushing his hand over John's hair who was surprisingly relieved that it was out.   
"I don't know what to do. Greg. I lost him. I lost him. And now it's too late." John's voice coming out in cracks and tears.   
"It's okay. John. We will get him back." Greg trying his best to calm him down.  
"No. It's over. They already turned him into this other person who won't even know my name. I lost him and I'll never get him back." John drowning in doubt and fear. Greg pushing John a little back from his chest, giving him a chance to properly breathe and calm down.  
"Hey. You don't know any of that. okay. You can't give up now. It's not the time to lose hope when there is still so much we can do." Mycroft patting John on the head in an encouraging manner. John got his breath back and tried to calm down cause he deep down knew that Greg was right. There was no time for that now. 

 

****

 

Greg drove slowly and decided to put some background music towards the depressive atmosphere that was engulfing them both. The ride from Mycroft mansion back to Mary's and John's townhouse took a while, both didn't feel up for it to not talk to each other, but at the same time, it was hard to talk to each other. Too much has happened over the last days. Too much to discuss.  
"Just so you know, I was holding a bet with Mrs. Hudson for all those years for when you two finally admit to each other. Mrs. Hudson said after you divorce Mary, while I opted for the two of you to start a secret affair before that." Greg's voice breaking the tension in the car while John's head was leaning on the car window. He was looking towards Greg and smiled slightly. He was actually genuinely happy to hear that. John's eyes looked fierce while Greg smiled back and looked out on the open street again.   
"There's so much to tell. Everything that happened to him. Everything that happened with Mary. It's fucked up really, but I try to stay sane. I try for him, cause I promised him. I promised him to take care of Charlotte and be a good father. To carry on with my life. I promised to trust him while he works on getting out. But how will that ever be possible now, when he won't even remember me making those promises." Greg huffed.   
"It is fucked up, John. Truly. I won't lie about this. But it's not over. Not yet." John nodded his head slightly. Looking out of the window. His brain clicking away.  
"Sorry for riling you up earlier on. I know you just mean best for me and everyone around you. It just seems that you and Mycroft have a special understanding." Greg squinting his eyes.  
"I need to as I'm under his thumb, which is not a comfortable place to be, considering his effectiveness of being a total asshole." John really had to pull himself together not to laugh in Greg's face.  
"Exactly, which you don't find appealing at all." Greg's head was known to spin.   
"Yes. No. I mean.....Could you stop being so inquisitive? I don't have any allegiance towards Mycroft Holmes except a professional one. Also, I am not interested in men." John really had to chuckle at that.  
"That's what I thought as well." He saw Greg smiling a bit now, and thought he caught him at this point. It was just too obvious of an attraction that Greg and Mycroft clearly had for each other that it would go unnoticed by John. A man who just found out that he wasn't that straight as he always that he'd be because the love of his life turned out to be a man.   
"Well, fair point, but that's not the case for me." John began to become a bit more serious about the subject.  
"Well. Why not? Is it really such a major factor if the person you fall for is a man instead of a woman? At the end of the day, it's about the person, a human being." Greg looked outside the car window. John had a point. He knew the glances Mycroft and himself gave each other, something was lingering between them all this time without addressing the subject. Greg could feel how jealous he got whenever he saw Mycroft in close proximity with Anthea. There was something that he couldn't deny. Yet, Mycroft was known as the Iceman for a reason. A man nobody really knew. An enigma.   
"I don't know. I've never been with a man before. Never really considered it. But I think you are right. It does depend on the person. But for me, Mycroft would never be someone I'd actually go for. He's cold as ice. Unfeeling almost. I wonder if he's even capable of having those feelings for someone." John nodded.  
"I can understand your reservations and doubts about him. But believe me, I think Mycroft Holmes if very much capable. He loves his brother to pieces. He cares too much, that's why he's trying to eliminate any human ties altogether because it would be too much, too painful. That's what I learned having spent so much time amongst the Holmes Brothers. Sherlock was the same, trying to cover up all these feelings, to be a sociopath, Noone ever bought it. In the end, it was all an act to avoid getting hurt too much." Greg looked to the side towards John.  
"I understand and by the way, I am very happy that you found that with Sherlock. The person you were always meant to be with. But Mycroft is an absolute nutcase. Noone will ever be able to make this man open up in any way." John interrupted.  
"Maybe you are that man. As I said, you never know. The Holmes brothers are a special species. But when they start to feel they will be loyal. Sherlock sacrificed his life to save mine. I believe Mycroft is likely to act upon the same. You might just have to get over yourself if you think there is something between the two of you. You just have to make the first step." Greg shook his head and let it fall.  
"I can't, It's impossible to,...I can't." John cleared.  
"Ok, then let's try this. Are you attracted to him." He looked at Greg with wide eyes who just looked back and did not reply. He was seriously embarrassed to answer the question.  
"Are you attracted to him. It's a yes or no question." After a few seconds have passed Greg looked away shyly.  
"Maybe." John nodded.  
"Ok. There you have it. That's the first realization after that you will figure it out along the way." Greg scuffed again.   
"You have no idea. Mycroft is not like Sherlock. There is no way this man is ever willing to go into unknown territory. He's way too much of a control freak." John hummed.  
"Well, let's see about that. During this whole operation, Mycroft will be there and you will be there right by his side. I wouldn't know a better scenario to test out that territory." Greg smiled a little and closed his eyes for a quick second. This was exhausting.  
"You're a lovesick idiot right now trying to play arrows cupid with anyone who's single around you." Greg let it slip, while John started to frown.   
"Might be true. But I also want you to realize how precious time is and that you should not waste it. You'll never know, it might be the last chance you get." Greg was head-butting himself mentally.  
"I'm sorry John. I'm being very insensitive." John waved his hand.  
"No. It's ok. I can understand. Really. This had nothing to do with my current situation. I just want you to go for it, without any regrets. I mean, what do you have to lose really."   
"My dignity." He answered and cracked a smile. John chuckled a little.  
"Don't worry about that. I think we all got metaphorically smacked over the face by Mycroft Holmes at one point or another. He can be a scary bloke." Greg looked into space thinking about himself and Mycroft. He never saw himself going in for that sort of thing.   
"True to that and I think you are right. I should at least give it a try." He concluded while John smiled triumphantly.   
"That's the spirit."


	36. The Women

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone is getting into the mix of things. The women take the upper hand in this shorter chapter.

He was letting the cold water run over his shoulders. The water pressure was perfect and he felt like he had waited for that shower for years. Ages. It felt so good and warm and soothing and untensed his muscles in the most beautiful way. The only thing missing was his husband standing behind him and running those fingers through his curls. His husband. The man he was married to. Sherlock tried to trace back the time and the memories. And they were all there and vivid and felt like the most real thing that happened to him since he had begun to work for Moriarty and the network. At the same time, however, there seemed to be a slight problem that was playing on his mind. He just couldn't figure out what it was. Why bother? Why trying to ruin this perfect life that he seemed he had.

On the other side of that door was Victor, now fully closed and packed up, and holding his phone as close to his mouth as possible.   
"Listen. We are ready when you are. Just please tell me where we going, so I can at least prep him. I don't want to start on the wrong foot right away with him." His voice soft, trying not to come across as nervous or anxious.   
On the other line was a female voice.   
"You sound nervous. I'm intrigued. You never sound nervous. I sense that things aren't going well between you and Moriarty. He's back and you already lost control." He could picture that smug grin forming on her gorgeous porcelain face. he huffed a little keeping one eye at the bathroom door.  
"Well. It's true what people say, you are indeed a professional when it comes to human interaction, but no, I am in perfect control. Our plan just didn't work out as we expected." Victor's didn't sound cheerful at all, it was still hard for him to admit that Mary had played them all, literally fucked them over. That lying bitch.  
"Do you want to tell me about it, or should I give Jim a call." She wasn't always a step ahead. Victor knew her too well.  
"Don't bother Darling. I know you to fuck. I am not stupid, you know." She giggled again.  
"What can I say. I've got a thing for psychopaths. especially extremely intelligent ones. brainy is the new sexy." Victor started to giggle as well.  
"Said no one ever."   
"Nah no. You can talk. How's our little experiment doing." Victor despised that term. Sherlock was never an experiment.   
"You met him. It was hard to talk him around but push his pressure points, and he falls like pudding in your hands. You should have tried it way back when, when you had your chance with him." He heard her sighing.  
"Oh, Come on Victor. You know that Sherlock Holmes was never really interested in me. Or in any woman for that matter. Everything he ever really wanted was right there." He closed his eyes for a second.  
"Well. Good that he wasn't fully aware of that fact at the time. Could have done a lot of damage. This way we were able to use his weaknesses against him in the most effective way possible."   
"You talk like it was a science project. Like they're not real people. And in a way you are right. At least now, he's not real. Not anymore. You know that right. Can't possibly be fooling yourself that he wants this life that Moriarty and yourself have set out for him." He pouted.  
"I don't really care. This was always the only way. You know that. And I know you have some sentiment left for him,...but.." She interrupted him.  
"Says the man who has been helplessly in love with him for more than a decade." He kept quiet for a minute, thinking about what to say next.  
"I didn't call you to lecture me. I called you because I know about your relationship with Jim and I wanted to propose a favour." He dreads carefully.   
"You want me to sweet talk him. You want me to convince him to forgive you." She made that conclusion herself. Smart girl.   
"Well. Yes, If it isn't too much trouble." He felt pathetic. Again. She smiled.  
"Sure. Victor. I'll talk to him, but don't expect anything. Once you break his trust, It's not easy to come back around. You know that. I'm actually surprised you're not rotting in that cell as we speak."   
"You don't even know what happened." He said outrageously.   
"Well. I can figure. Let me guess. You famous rage has gone rogue again." Victor was walking even further away from that bathroom door. He knew that he got a temper but hadn't known it was already famous. Maybe that's why so many in the criminal world feared him.   
"I changed my mind. I'm not going to say anything."   
"Which means. I am right. am I." She definitely had a laugh.  
"Whatever. I just let my emotions control me. It's not entirely all my fault. It's Williams. Since he's been here, It got more and more difficult for me, to control them. He has a power over me, that I am not entirely grasping yet. A power that I really don't like." She couldn't hold her tongue.  
"It's called love baby. You said it yourself. You love him. There are certain weaknesses that come with that. You always talk about pressure points and how useful they are to the network. Well. He's your pressure point, and there's nothing you can really do to change that." She was amused but also understanding. Her voice got softer.  
"I know. I know. It just still something I have to get used to it."   
"Well. You will. Give it time. It all happened not even 24 hours ago. His transformation. Give him and yourself some time. Well, probably just yourself as he's your fully fleshed out prince charming. He won't second guess a thing, He'll just be at your mercy. Forever." Victor could hear Sherlock turning off the shower.  
"I know you take the piss. But to common belief, He's not my slave. He's my husband." The words rolled off his tongue effortlessly.  
"Whatever you say. Listen, I've gotta go." He half smiled.  
"Meet some of you Clients?"   
"Sort of. If you have to know. but to come back to your initial request. I'll meet you in Glasgow, that's at least the information I got. You don't need to prep him for anything, Jim got it all covered. Just make sure you won't misstep again, and I will try my best to talk Jim around. Got it." He smiled appreciatingly.  
"Got it. Thanks, darling. I really do appreciate it. In trying times, you really figure out who your friends are and who to trust." She stayed quiet on the other line before She hung up on him. 

 

 

*****

 

John fell into bed and didn't know when he woke up, he just slept. His whole body was in absolute exhaustion. When Greg dropped him off at his and Mary's old home, He was not surprised to coming back to the sleeping form of his still wife on the couch and his baby girl sleeping in the baby cradle next to her. He didn't want to wake them, so he tiptoed towards the other room, but not before taking in the beautiful face of his daughter and kissing her on the forehead, a tear forming at the corner of his eyes. He was just so happy to see her. Never knowing if he would ever see her again when walking into that base, was one of the most difficult things he ever had to do. He didn't want to abandon her, but it wasn't his choice, even if Mary insisted. The same as it wasn't his choice to potentially leave her behind again. He didn't want to think about that tonight.   
He just wanted to get some sleep. Trying to push those haunting images away. Sherlock being at the mercy of those two lunatics. Sherlock's being abused. He just couldn't take it. 

"You're awake." After having slept for most of the evening and night through, John was welcomed by his wife who was always just woken up out of sleep and who was standing at the entrance towards their former bedroom. John was rubbing his eyes, heaving his body up from the mattress.  
"I am. I feel like a slept for years. I didn't want to wake you earlier. I just fell right into bed myself." She nodded.  
"Yeah, I guess we deserved it." She was sitting on the edge of the bed.   
"You've talked to Mycroft, I presume." John sighed letting his head drop a little.  
"I did. Don't worry, I didn't let anything slip. He fully believes that we both were victims to the system. He will never know your role in all if this if you keep your promise." She clutched her lips together.  
"I will. You have my word. I won't stop until we find him. Just be prepared. It will be a hell of a ride." Mary looked at him. Just looked and she could see her husband ageing quicker over the last days than he ever did. This whole situation was playing with his health, with his entire being.  
"Mycroft things I am a liability. He didn't fully say it, but I know what he's thinking."   
"Hang on. Did you tell him about Sherlock and you."   
"No. Didn't just listen. I just said. There's nothing for you to worry about. I kept up the pretence, but you know how Mycroft is. He can see right through me. I'm not sure how convincing, I was. And he did mention before to me many times, that it's crystal that we are in love. So to be completely frank, I don't really know if he believes me if he trusts me." Mary didn't seem to be satisfied with that answer at all.  
"Well. He has to. We need him, and we need his trust. If Mycroft Holmes suspects just the tiniest bit of mistrust, He will retaliate and we can't let that happen." John closed his eyes in frustration.  
"Well. I kind of slipped with Greg." Mary folded her hands in front of her face.  
"What. Are you taking the piss." She jumped from the bed.  
"No. hang on. It wasn't like that. Greg kind of forced it out of me. He already knew. I didn't have the heart to lie to him. he's one of my closest friends and I trust him to stay quiet." Mary couldn't believe this.  
"Really. John. Staying quiet. I know how highly you think of both of those men, but at this time, you really not supposed to trust anyone."   
John smiled ironically.  
"Says the woman who lied to me the entire time I knew her. The secret assassin lecturing others on trust and loyalty. Really." Mary huffed exhaustingly.  
"Fine. I made some bad choices. But I know how to get things done and if you really want my help, then you should listen to me from time to time, otherwise, this won't work." She pointed into the open space in front of them.  
"I know. And I don't know what happened with Greg. I was just very upset and vulnerable. Mycroft Holmes always manages to get me into a certain state of frustration." Mary grinned now.  
"I am sure you're not the only one." They joined in the soft laughter, trying not to wake their baby girl in the other room.


	37. Smart Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all about Victor in this chapter. Someone, who swore never to be controlled by his emotions and feelings, has become exactly the opposite. Victor has been consumed by them and now he has to live with the consequences.   
> More of the charming and cheeky assassin Phillipe.

Victor was standing in the control room, looking through the last pieces of files and equipment that he could find. His back was turned towards a perfectly styled young man who was leaning against the wall watching him every move. That sandy hair and those magnetic eyes. Phillipe had his fair share of troubles over the years in the network but he was always compliant with the way Victor used to manage things. The young man was a hell of a shooter and the best at torturing people to gain important information for the network. He became absolutely vital and Victor built a mentor-student relationship with him.   
"You don't have to stand there, you know that. This following me around gets exhausting now." Victor didn't bother to look over while Phillipe was smiling to himself.  
"You know me better than anyone else. I am not following you around because I want to." Something was twitching inside of him. His heart. Just a flicker of a feeling but It was still prominent. He was compromised. Openly. In front of everyone. Infront of the network. Moriarty had no shame. He would drag this out as long as possible. Torturing him. The one person that always stood up to him. The one person who had saved this organization. Saved his ass. One mistake and all that he worked for was supposed to be eliminated?  
"As Jim doesn't seem to think necessary to talk to me myself. Please let him know I appreciate trying to keep this very unsuccessfully under wraps, but if he wants to lock me into the cellar, he should please do so. I am done with these constant shenanigans." He pointed out and Phillips' eyes were fading slightly, pushing himself from the wall.  
"I won't do that, cause, believe it or not, I want to protect you, Sir. Against your own judgment. We both know that there's hardly the chance to ever come back around once the relationship is broken. He won't let it slide. He lost two people who will be an absolute liability."  
Victor was turning around now, facing Phillipe. That beautiful bastard.  
"I don't need your protection, Phillipe. I can take care of myself. I made a mistake and I will take care of the consequences. I rebuild this organization from the ground up, all by myself, I'm capable of anything, don't you worry." His voice firm, looking in those smooth features. Phillipe had this twinkle in his eyes.  
"I'm not worried. I just want you to know what you're up against." Victor had to smile again. Phillipe was loyal but unpredictable.  
"I know what I am up against. Stop this, before I think you might care." He laid it out and clasped Phillipe on the back before turning around.  
"I do care." He let out without thinking about it and bit his tongue.   
"You do. You care about a lot of things Phillipe. You've always been a loyal and dependable assassin but I know how you operate. The only person you care about is yourself and your needs." The sandy-haired man made a face surprise. Victor could see right through his mask, which he had to give props to. He knew him far too long.  
"Well, I can't deny that. I've got needs and they are not being met at the moment. Seeing you're not my boss any longer, I would think we could maybe discuss the terms of our relationship and....." He was cut off by the loud burst of laughter that was coming from Victor, chuckling to himself and shaking his head in response.  
"Don't even start, Phillipe. Just because I am in a somewhat difficult position right now, it doesn't mean I am desperate." First, blow to Phillips' face and he took it.   
"What's that supposed to mean?" He was balling his fists. This was not how he imagined it would go.  
"You know that I am kind of preoccupied at the moment, do you. That's kind of the whole reason I am in this mess in the first place." Phillipe was heaving his shoulders up and down.  
"Well, you know this won't last, do you." Victor frowning. Getting visually tired of this pointless conversation.  
"And What is that supposed to mean." There was something that Victor didn't know. Something that was planned, or has been planned without his consultation.  
"I don't want to state the obvious but Sherlock Holmes isn't yours. He belongs to the network, which isn't yours anymore. Meaning you're not in charge of him any longer. He belongs to Moriarty and Moriarty only." Victor couldn't believe what he was hearing.  
"No. That's not true. He insured me that I would oversee his development. I was put in charge for his well being and his training. I,...he knows the terms and he knows our history. Will is mine." Phillipe huffed now himself in response and clasped Victor on the shoulder.  
"You don't know what is coming to get you. I want you to know, cause it's pointless to the deny the obvious. You're out Victor. You lost your powers the moment you decided to blurt out that you're in love with him. I mean if I didn't know better, I wouldn't recognize the man standing before me. Sherlock Holmes made you weak. You're a joke to the entire network now. Nobody is taking you seriously anymore. You've become the thing you were always afraid of. An absolute failure.!" Phillips' eyes didn't hold any emotions in them. Just empty pools while Victor was trying his best to compose himself, though, he could feel his heart picking up speed. The sweat building on his forehead.  
"If you think you can intimidate me, Phillipe, think again. I made you. You're in the position you're in now because of me, don't ever forget that." His eyes were red, yet firm, but Phillipe knew Victor. He was trembling inside.  
"That's not what I am saying. I will always be grateful for what you've done for me, Sir. I just want to lay it out for you, so you know what you can expect. Because...I care. You see. You're a great fuck. I mean from what I've heard. You never tried it with me though and I thought it had to do with the whole hierarchy thing. But now you're at the bottom of the food chain, no one there to protect you. I mean, In a way I guess I am doing you a favor. Seeing that nobody wants to fuck you once this information has traveled. I might be the last fuck you'll ever get. And rest assured. I am great at fucking." Victor swallowed. He never really saw that side of Phillipe. That raw, animalistic, manipulative side. Victor taught him well in that department apparently. Over the years his behavior must have been robbing off of him, seeing Victor used to be the master of manipulation and deceit.   
"You might want to change your plans then Phillipe, because, against common consent, I am married and I've got my husband waiting for me who belongs to me and me only." Phillipe just grinned at him now. No response, just that smug grin that once belonged to Victor.  
"Suit yourself, Victor. At least I tried." He said more to himself and saw Victor's back turned towards the next exit.

 

 

******

 

 

Sweat was dripping down from his neck now as He shuffled from the control room into the long corridor. Empty corridors who seemed more like a riddle to him now. A maze. He knew these corridors but that bombshell that Phillipe had just dropped on him, definitely had an effect and Victor was becoming more and more manic and unsettled by his situation. Maybe Moriarty wanted to lure him into false security. Something that Victor often did while torturing his victims. Maybe this has all been a lie from the start, and Moriarty had been playing him all along. A long con with Victor not only losing his power but really fearing for his life.   
This could go really bad, really quickly and he had to make sure that he was keeping his cool in order to find a solution to this. He couldn't really storm out of the base with Sherlock in his arms and he also couldn't go along like normal, pretending nothing was being planned. Moriarty wanted to torture him, that at least he was sure of.   
Victor was storming into an empty suit expecting Sherlock to be there, finishing up the last packing. But there was no one there. Victor was by himself. At this point in time, he couldn't be surprised about that. V  
"Will." He said slowly but there was no response coming his way. He was gone. Moreover, Moriarty made sure he would not be in close proximity. Victor was frantically going through some stuff. He needed to find William and then make some kind of deal. Or maybe just flee. He couldn't think of anything that could redeem himself, that could reverse this huge mistake. A mistake that potentially ruined his life. He fished his phone out of his pocket and looked through his contacts. There must be at least someone left to take him in for a few days, until he figured out a plan. Something that would regain his powers. But as Phillipe said, it was hard to come back from that. He would first have to hunt down the bitch and drag her back to base, so he could kill her in front of Moriarty.  
"Thinking about your options." This voice was running down his back as Victor didn't even attempt to turn around to meet those dark pools of black eyes. He breathed slowly, trying to regain his composer.  
"Did you send Phillipe on purpose" He was curious, turning towards Moriarty.  
"Well. Not exactly. I did spell out for him to give you heads up, but he was very eager. He fancies you, you know." That chuckle again. That smile. Victor still admired the genius in front of him.   
"Fair enough. I just want one man. As I see you had different plans." Brushing his hair back. Victor was clutching his phone in his hand. She was his only hope now.  
"Yes. I couldn't tell you. You were and are so in love, it's heartbreaking really." There was no ounce of humanity attached to the man in front of him. Once, victor prided himself with being exactly the same, but he never was.   
"Would have made things a lot easier. Now you've left me with nothing, and probably you will have to kill me, cause I refuse to go down to the cellar." Jim shook his head, adding a finger to his response. Making clear that it was definitely not that.   
"Oh no. My poor boy. I'm not going to kill you, neither lock you up. Again, If I wanted to, it would have been the first call of action." Victor waved his hands than in frustration.  
"What's with the games then. I know you get a kick out of it, but I am a man of my word, Jim. You want William, fine. You've got him now. He belongs to you. Are you happy now." He got more and more frustrated.  
"Aww, the emotions again. You're really not that different from poor Rose. Two sides of the same coin. Lovesick and foolish." Moriarty was  
"Right. You got me. I am. I loved him for far too long, and I will continue doing so. If that means I've become the weak link that so it shall be."   
Moriarty took a pause, looking through the room, a smile creeping up on his face again.  
"Right. You want a deal. I will give you a deal. Don't get me the wrong way, Victor. You have been nothing but exceptional over the last few years, and I don't take those things lightly. You did it all yourself while I had to stay in hiding because of your boyfriend. I wanted to make him suffer by becoming my puppet, my little toy that I can play with whenever I want. I wanted to strip Sherlock Holmes from everything that was ever dear to him. I wanted to create a new man. A better man. Someone who can be an asset. And he will be. but not without paying the price. Not without suffering. And I let him suffer in the cruelest way possible." Victor didn't understand. What was happening? What has Moriarty really done to him?.  
"What,...What do you mean by that? We gave him the pill, business as usual. There's no suffering involved." Jim's smile was never leaving. His eyes glinting in triumph.  
"I gave him a different pill. The newest edition. Straight up from Culverton Smith himself. It's an addition to the ones they created for everyone else I've been using it on. Fun little twist hereby, the user will experience another level of consciousness whereby he knows that his brain has been infiltrated. He's sunken into his subconscious experiencing everything from the inside, but he can't fight against his own brain. He is trapped down there." Victor lost all color in his face. He was pale and sick and disgusted and scared and...He was in shock. and speechless. He couldn't believe that Moriarty would do this without telling him. That was never meant to happen.  
"I don't understand." He said the words but was far away already. His mind on Sherlock, thinking about what tortures he must go through right now.  
"You're a smart boy. you know exactly what is happening, you just don't want to believe it. Sherlock Holmes doesn't get to run away scot-free. did you really think I would make it that easy for me? Yes, I want his allegiance and his brain, but I also want him to suffer. I want him to know what is going on while he loses control. bit by bit." Victor was grabbing Moriarty by his arms frantically.  
"Where is he." Moriarty pushing him away.  
"No chance, Victor. He's gone. He can't fight it. His mind is controlled by me, while he's trapped inside the deepest and darkest corner of his mind, watching me taking over. It's the perfect scenario really." Victor was clasping his hands in front of his forehead. He didn't want to believe what Moriarty has just revealed to him.  
"It's sick. This is sick. You can't do this to him. This was never part of the plan."  
"It is now."   
"Don't try to fight this Victor. I will do with your boyfriend as I please. In the meantime, you can be a good boy and fetch me Rosemund and Doctor Watson."   
"What? How am I supposed to do that? Both of them are under the protection of MI5 and Mycroft Holmes. You can't possibly believe that one man can do something against an army." Moriarty grinned from side to side. He enjoyed himself, Victor knew as much.  
"Well, you won't have a choice, will you? From now on your my bitch, nothing more and nothing less. I expect you to do everything in order to gain my trust back, meaning you will hunt down Rosemund and Doctor Watson until the end of time if that's required. You have been a good assassin in your days, never the best, but definitely talented. So I am sure, you can work a way around it." Victors head was spinning. Moriarty was playing with him like he used to play with his victims so many times. Everything he learned, he learned from him.   
"You forget about the fact, that Rose has been the best assassin this network has ever produced. In order to defeat her, it will take more than just one operative." Jim waved his hand boringly.   
"That's the deal I am willing to make, Victor. You right your wrongs. I want Rosemund to pay for this betrayal. She doesn't deserve another breath. I want her to look me in the eyes when I drain the life out of her." Victor nodded now. He kind of felt it was useless to discuss this further. If Moriarty wanted him to go after them, then he wouldn't have any other choice. He had to do as he was told, or he would pay the price with his life.   
"Fine. As you wish." He surrendered his mind kind of still on the whole Sherlock situation. Moriarty was grinning triumphantly, before lifting a finger.  
"There's one more thing, Victor." He was done with this conversation. He lost too much in such a short amount of time.   
"What." He answered with the emotions kind of drained out of him.  
"I want you to kill the baby first."


	38. Back Of My Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter capter! Victor is breaking the news to Sherlock.

Sherlock was standing stock still in front of the body length mirror, eyeing his reflection. Moriarty transferred him to a different room for whatever reason. He wasn't entirely sure. He was looking up and down the length of his body, which in some way seemed foreign to him. Since he woke up he had this feeling at the back of his mind that something was not quite right. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but he didn't feel like himself. Something didn't sit quite right with him, and if he was truly honest with himself then he had to admit that it slowly started to bother him.   
Victor was the most gorgeous human he probably had ever seen. Waking up and knowing that he had a husband who looked like he did, was something out of a fairytale, something that Sherlock never thought he could have.   
He knew his place in the network. He knew that he wanted to make Victor and Moriarty proud, so he never thought of questioning any of this. This perfect life he seemed to have. He loved Victor. He knew that. I mean, how could he not. He was not only gorgeous but also kind and incredibly smart and charming and understanding and so incredibly soft with him, Sherlock felt like he was the most precious thing in the universe. He felt loved and he shouldn't doubt that ever. He shouldn't doubt the man who was his husband. 

The door to the room was lodged open a bit while Sherlock was craning his neck towards the opening and looking at said husband who was looking rather distraught.   
"Hey." Came the soft voice from Victor looking at the man in front of him. Every time he looked at Sherlock, he could swear that he was about to break. His insides were turning and he refused to have this conversation. He just refused. On the other hand, there was nothing he could do at the moment. As far as he was concerned he had to play the game and sort out the mess he has made.  
"Hi" Sherlock returned even softer, making his way towards Victor, embracing him. He just wanted to feel the touch of the person he trusted most. He longed to be held. Just held. Victor was returning the embrace but equally, he was holding back. He knew that he had to explain a lot of things. He also knew that the other Sherlock, the one who hated him, was buried deep inside his conscious. Trapped down there, probably suffering more than anyone can imagine. He couldn't look him in the eye and ignore the pain that his Sherlock, the one who he went to Uni with, must be feeling. This Sherlock would rather cut his arms off than touch him.   
"I need to talk to you. It's quite urgent." Victor started and pulled himself out of Sherlock's embrace, who seemed startled and surprised.   
"Are you ok. Have I done something wrong." Victor waved his hand, walking around him, trying to get some space.  
"No, No. You've been great. It's me who messed up." Sherlock was taking a back completely, trying to make sense of what Victor seems to struggle to tell him.   
"What are you talking about." He scuffed his suit, trying to get some kind of composer back, but how could he if he had to tell Sherlock that he was about to leave him.   
"I'll be sent on a mission. I need to track down two subjects. It's kind of imminent. There's no time to lose." He felt like his throat was being squeezed tightly. It felt really hard to breathe.   
"What. When." Sherlock was shaking his head in disbelief. He knew that that kind of jobs belonged to the assassins, the operatives. Victor was neither.  
"As soon as possible. Moriarty wants me to leave by the end of the day." He tried not to show any emotions, even when his insides were falling apart.   
"I'm coming with you. You can't possibly do this now. Look at you. You're in no fit state to go on a mission." Sherlock was coming closer again. Observing his injured shoulder. Victor was walking back from him, trying to get more space. Sherlock looked so concerned, so frightened, so caring. So in love. Why could this not be real?  
" You won't. I need to do this on my own. And as my husband, I am asking you to respect this decision."   
"I can't possibly be okay with this. This is Ludacris." It was. This whole thing was.  
"I will heal up, William. I will get fitter. Jim didn't map out a timeline, meaning I'll have enough time to track them down and bring them back. He wants them alive and well. I just need you to be strong." Sherlock was falling apart just by hearing those words. He couldn't possibly leave his husband behind like that.   
"I am. But I want to come with." He tried again to get closer to Victor by taking his hand and pulling him towards him. Victor let him. Every ounce in his body was fighting it. Cause this wasn't real. Nothing was real. With the added effect that the real Sherlock was living inside of him.  
"You can't. Jim was clear. He needs one operative to carry out the mission." Sherlock was shaking his head again and again.  
"But you are not an operative." Victor smiled a bit now, brushing those curls from Sherlock's face.  
"I was. Back in the day. That's how I started. Can u remember." Sherlock blinked at him, returning the gesture and holding Victor's face in his hands, getting closer and closer. He couldn't really remember. Why couldn't he remember?

"I can't. I really can't" Victor was dropping his gaze. This was wrong. He felt physically sick now everytime he got closer to him. Moriarty had destroyed the idea for him of happy ever after. He destroyed everything by using the wrong pill.   
"It doesn't matter really. All that matters is that you accept it. We're going to be apart for a while, which doesn't mean you have to forget about me. I will be back. I just can't tell you when." Sherlock dropped his gaze too. He was incredibly sad and frustrated by this decision. He needed to talk to Jim.   
"I accept it. Doesn't mean that I have to like it." He said and Victor was smiling a bit.  
"Nobody said you should like it. We both hate it, but let's try to live with it." Sherlock was pulling Victor into a kiss. A long kiss. He was demanding. He was longing for him. He was not prepared to just let him go like this without knowing when he would come back. Victor was responding to the kiss at first but pushed at Sherlock's chest a little to get some space between them again. As much as he wanted to have sex with him, this revelation from Jim changed everything. Was he really able to have sex with Sherlock now, if the real Sherlock was screaming from the inside? Victor knew that the real him hated him, was disgusted by him. He couldn't possibly go through with this.  
"Will, wait. My shoulder." He tried while Sherlock was trying to get closer to him again. It was an inner turmoil. On the one hand, Victor wanted nothing more to just let his instincts take over and ravish him, on the other, it was kind of like he was abusing Sherlock. He didn't sign up for this. He was not that person who needed to abuse people. He always got what he wanted because of who he was.   
"Sorry. I just want you so much, and it seems like you really don't want me."   
Here we go. Victor was sure this was about to come up. He took his hand.   
"Wiliam, listen, please, you have to understand that this has nothing to do with you or what you did. you didn't do anything wrong at all. I love you and I always will, but right now there are too many things that I've got to sort out. I know it's inconvenient for the both of us, but we need to work together. I need your trust and I need you to understand in what kind of situation I am." Sherlock nodded, looking miserable and slapped in the face.  
"I understand. I'm just trying to help." He confessed.  
"And I love you for it. But right now, I really need you to step back and let me sort this all out. I promise you, it will be fine in the end. I will come back." He kissed Sherlock on the forehead. Slowly and Lovingly. He was in love with this man. He was. No doubt about it.   
"You promise?"   
"I promise."


End file.
